Of Death and Fate
by vagrantboy
Summary: One tiny event changed by Death can force the roads divined by the Fates to diverge. Harry/Hermione/Daphne. Rating for potential language and more adult subject matter down the line.
1. Snap Goes the Mortal Coil

**Disclaimer: **I neither own nor claim to own the source material from which this story is derived.

**Author's Note: **This is a new venture for me. If you have questions about this or any of my other stories, do not hesitate to PM me. If you have questions as to when I will update, please view the section in my profile with the words Self-Imposed Rules.

And before anyone questions too much this **will be a** **Triad-Relationship Story**. If you have a question about it look at the description of the story in my profile.

The prompt for this story originally came from Red Jacobson on the 3 or 4 Parts Harmony Yahoo group.

Please note that I have moved the World Cup to two weeks prior to when the original date was, this is to allow me to have a bit more slack as far as time in my buildup to events.

**Enjoy**

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**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Prologue: An Introspective Death at The World Cup**

_**August 11, 1994, World Cup Stadium**_

He had been around for…well as long as he could remember. He was, after all, the entity known as Death. So long as there was life, he was there to witness its end on this certain plane.

The odd thing was that, over his long and illustrious career, he had deviated from the rules set forth by "the powers that be" a time or two. The governing body that controlled him and the others didn't seem to mind though. In fact, he always felt encouraged in an odd way. That being said, he had not intervened with a human being's life in quite a while. Much of the time he focused on the other creatures that lived - the ones the human beings referred to as "animals". Except for cats - he hated those damn things. But he was beginning to feel the need to intervene for the young man he was currently watching.

Harry James Potter.

He could remember the day he had first touched the boy's life. He had just greeted the boy's parents. Unlike most souls with whom he interacted,the two had simply turned from him to watch their still living child. The only way he was able to gain their attention was the promise that the boy was not meant to follow them. The boy's mother had gripped his cloak, something he can say had not happened in a very long time, and forced him to meet her eyes. She had simply said in a voice that chilled even him, "He had best not follow us." For all the humans he had helped along their way, the woman had actually given him a cold sense of fear.

He only "met" with people under certain circumstances. Most human beings would not feel welcomed by his presence, which he understands. So a good bit of his time was spentquietly watching as they were greeted by loved ones ready to show them the next journey.

The few he actually met with usually fell into one of three categories.

There were the ones who stood defiantly against him. These people eventually realized the futility of their defiance. These were usually ones he had "met" once before, but they would argue their importance. In the end they were always the ones who would claim the trickery of Death, though it was not as if he needed to play the puppeteer.

There were the ones who simply watched him. They were usually accepting and kind enough as he personally walked them to their loved ones.

Then there were the few who greeted him happily. Ignotus Peverell would always be the most memorable member of that group for him. Though that was likely because the man had been too bloody cheeky.

Death shook the head of the body he conjured to mix in with the humans. He turned his head to view the game that was going on. When he turned back to the young man, he watched as the boy laughed and cheered amongst his friends. It was one of the few moments he had seen true joy on the boy's face.

In truth he had not originally paid much attention to the boy. His attention was solely focused on one Tom Marvolo Riddle. The supposed Dark Lord of his time. Death found him to be a pitiable soul…well soul would be a misnomer at the time he came of interest. The man had sown his fields and his harvest would be an eternity of unknown. Death was not even sure what would happen to the poor man. A soul split once or twice could be repaired and given the ability to pass on to their journey. Riddle though- that man had sealed himself an end in which not even Death would have a direct hand.

The night when he had first met the boy, he had originally planned on just allowing the natural order of the world to pass. Then he noticed that the pitiful self-proclaimed Dark Lord had unintentionally split a piece of his soul into the boy. In anger, a feeling Death was not used to, he had found the Fates. Those cackling women had explained the role that the boy was supposed to play. Their "plans" had taken on many different forms; each of them worse than the last. The only saving grace was that the boy would be the determining factor. Even with the Fates, the boy still had the freedom of choice.

He had actually seen fit to take his anger out on a few of Tom Riddle's followers when they made their way from life.

He still did not like how those 'women' intended to use the young man. The boy's life seemed to be one grain of salt after another on a festering wound. And, based on his interaction with the Fates, it seemed his life would only get worse. Every time he spoke to the Fates, the more it seemed the boy lost more loved ones and would eventually be forced to play the part of a grand martyr.

It was not if he, the entity known as Death, actually cared for the boy. At least he did not believe that to be so—but then again his constant checking over the boy during his early years in that wretched household would speak otherwise—even to him.

It was this revelation which forced Death to appear at this stadium, surrounded by cheering fans who had gathered here to watch the young man "in person".

He watched for quite some time, right until there was an eruption as one of the two team won the event. But it was not the cheering that really caught his attention. It was the whispered words given by one man to another. They were two of them -his followers.

Death could see the flaxen head of hair and the ebony cane with a serpents head—Death knew that man. Lucius Malfoy. He had watched as that man attempted to harm the boy no less than a year and a half ago—if it hadn't been for that kindly little elf, Lucius may have succeeded.

The other man was also well known to him. Antonin Dolohov. A man who had been the last image of quite a few of the people he had helped along during the last Wizarding War.

Not far from the two men stood another that Death was acquainted with quite well. Walden Macnair. An executioner. He had sent many animals (though that term was broad to he and his friends) past Death. The man reeked of blood and looked out of place in the "High Society" box with the Minister.

Death had taken in their hushed tones and focused until their words were as clear as if they were standing next to him. He knew their plans for after the event.

If he did nothing, Death would be forced to escort more people because of their planned actions.

He watched as the men smiled at their presumed brilliance.

They planned on reviving the last war. They believed it was time for "their right as pure-bloods" to be expressed.

Death seethed. What they had planned would bring about loss of life on a larger scale than the last time. The Fates had not been lying when they had told him of their readings and interactions with the wizarding world.

He couldn't allow this to happen to the boy—or to all of the others.

As Death had turned and surveyed the crowd still cheering, he noticed a few people he knew the Fates had mentioned in passing—and then it hit him.

Death felt his own smile at the thought that just passed through his consciousness. He would intervene in the boy's life, but unlike the other forces that had their hands in the boy's destiny he actually had the boy's happiness in mind.

As his grin grew wider he faded away from the screaming masses and made his way to visit those meddling Fates. Those 'women' despite their best efforts couldn't hide their true nature from him. They would jump at the chance to join him in fixing this problem. The only real problem was, he knew they would stretch theboundaries of what he felt was acceptable.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Chapter One: Snap Goes the Mortal Coil**

**Part One: A Not-So-Great Event**

_**August 11-12, 1994, Late night/Early morning at the World Cup Grounds**_

Harry could not figure out where he was in the valley of burning tents. One second he had been with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione running towards the forest, and the next he was being knocked nearly senseless. He had watched for a few moments as the rush of people blurred in front of him. He couldn't find his wand and he was lost. Story of his life.

Then he heard a scream.

He had turned his head to the noise and he could make the barest outline of a young girl surrounded by the hooded marchers that caused this entire mess.

One of the figures was busy firing little balls of fire within a few breaths of her form. Another was throwing spells directly at her. They were toying with her. She couldn't have been more than ten or eleven years old, but these hooded marchers were sending hexes towards her.

Harry couldn't be sure why his body began to move towards them in an exponential pace. The closer he got, though; his anger began to swell as they picked up the tempo of their casting. He heard them saying things as he approached; things that did not bode well.

"Cyrus' daughter she is." One of them said with a laugh.

"Yes, well…maybe now he'll realize the unfortunate consequences of his decisions." Another commented.

By the time he had made it to two tent spaces away he saw the one who looked to be leading them lift his wand and begin a curse. Harry's instincts took over instantly for the next thing he knew he had hurled himself towards the girl in a futile attempt to roll her out of the way.

He had succeeded; in theory. He heard a word starting with "Cruc…", and then his entire body felt like searing hot pins were being slowly pulled and pushed back into every nerve ending. He found, through a break in the waves of pain, that he had ended up facing the girl with his front to the ground.

Up close it was easy to see that whatever they had been casting on her was not as severe as what he dove in front of. A few small cuts and some dirt was the only damage he had noticed. Her eyes though, were wide as she watched him.

Even with all the pain he tried his best to give her a smile. It didn't make complete sense, but it was the type of thing he would expect Sirius to do even in this situation.

Then the pain got worse.

"Oh, a young dashing rogue to play the hero!" The voice said, "Tell me young man; does the dashing hero have a name?" A boot covered heel caught his shoulder and pushed him over to face the men as the spell thankfully ended. The man gasped and then in a voice Harry found somewhat familiar exclaimed, "Oh…Brothers! We have a fortuitous turn of events!" The man placed his foot on top of Harry's chest, "I present to you Harry Potter." The others seemed to get closer. "Oh the Dark Lord will reward us all handsomely for this." Harry heard murmurs and took a chance to look at the girl. She was frozen in her spot, but her blue eyes were wide and frantic.

"Brother!" Harry heard the man exclaim. Harry caught sight of the man grasping one of the other's shoulders. "I believe you have a certain curse you've been waiting to test. Perhaps Mr. Potter here would be so kind as to allow you to try it on him." The man's foot left his chest, and Harry watched as the other lifts his wand. Suddenly there was a purple flame and Harry's lower right stomach felt like it had been run through with a broadsword, or what he assumed a broadsword would feel like.

Harry gasped and saw the shoulders of the men shake in laughter. His side was in searing pain and he was sure he was about to die.

Then something odd happened. The tent that had been directly to the left of them collapsed and flung fresh cinders onto the men surrounding him. He watched as the cloaks of at least half of the men caught fire. In the midst of their panicked shouts of "_augmenti_", Harry felt himself move.

The next thing Harry knew he was running hard, and the girl was cradled in his arms. If he had been thinking properly at that moment he would have asked what happened, or possibly why he was carrying the girl. But the only reverberating thought in his mind was the desperate need to make it to the forest and safety. He knew the Weasleys and Hermione were there. His vision was tunneling and his side was beginning to really make itself known.

Just as he caught sight of the tree line a light in the sky caught his attention. A green skull with a snake coming out of the mouth lit up the area in a sickening hue. His legs had finally had enough, and thought he didn't drop to his knees, he did stop.

With the blood pounding in his ears he hadn't been surprised that he didn't hear the sound of the people that were now circling them with wands drawn. But these people were wearing red robes. 'Aurors! Not _the marchers! _Thank Godric!' Harry thought as his vision tightened even more.

Then Mr. Weasley and another man had shoved past the Aurors shouting things Harry couldn't hear. The other man held out his arms for the girl. Harry saw her respond by reaching her own arms out, and Harry didn't have the energy to question.

The minute she was in the other man's arms Harry noticed how the older man's eyes widened at the amount of blood on the girls night dress. He didn't hear any of the questions the man began asking even though he was standing less than three feet away. A woman and another girl appeared next to the man, and Harry vaguely recognized the other girl as someone from school.

Harry's head was getting light.

His initial burst of adrenaline started crashing, and the pain in his side slammed into him again as the blood in his ears roared louder.

He watched as the sobbing girl pointed at him. Then Harry saw that all eyes turned to him. Mr. Weasley was next to him in an instant and his lips were moving. Harry tried to catch the questions, but then he felt the warm liquid saturating his shirt. As he had looked down he saw exactly why everyone looked so worried. Judging by the blood staining his shirt he was lucky to be conscious, let alone standing.

That had apparently been the magic thought as he had felt his knees crumble underneath him, and Mr. Weasley catching him as he fell.

He had been able make out the images of a screaming Hermione as she was being held back by one of the Twins. Ron was being held back by the other. Then there were the three oldest Weasley brothers, each of them were keeping a fighting Ginny from seeing him.

He had looked back to his best friends. Hermione and Ron had been fighting so hard to get to him. Then he noticed a figure standing off to the side. It was a man, but unlike the other chaotic throng of people he had just stood there in a muggle suit and stared at Harry. There was a smile on his face. It was actually a comforting sort of smile.

His last thoughts before everything ceased to exist had been of how typical it was that a quidditch game ended with him like this.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Part Two:** **This is the Sound of Voices Three**

He had not been sure how exactly he got to where he was when he opened his eyes. He was just sure that there was very large room and people running around him. In front of him there was a portrait of a man. The man had a kind smile stretched across dark skin. His face was kind and comforting.

Harry leaned in to read the inscription.

**"May your pain ease and your maladies cease." -Mungo Bonham, Founder and Healer 1560-1659**

Harry pulled back and sighed. He was in St. Mungos hospital.

Then it had all come flashing back. The attack, the girl, the men in mask and cloaks, and the pain. He had quickly he put a hand to his side only to find a dry shirt and no pain. When he pulled up the hem of Dudley's old shirt, Harry found the wound. It looked old though. The skin was taught where the scar went over the plane of his stomach and broached the area of his hip, but it was healed.

Then Harry felt a hand on his arm. There was a woman winding her hand into the crook of his left arm. She was pretty, very pretty. She smiled at him, almost as if she had heard his inner thought.

Then Harry noticed two more women to his right side. They looked similar to the other woman. Their hair, the same dark hue, and their eyes the same bright shade of grey. When he met the one that held his arm's eyes, he had to pull back slightly from how deep they seem to go. She had just smiled at him again with a slight shake of her head.

Harry prepared himself to ask them something when the one holding his left arm began to sing. Well to call it singing would not be right. Harry was not sure of the term, but she was sort of-vocalizing a song without words. It did not detract from the beautiful sound she crooned out.

Harry looked around to see the attention she must be drawing, but no one seemed to notice them.

Then she turned him and made him walk alongside her. Each step seemed to bring them directly down a hallway in a blur of motion. Down close to ten hallways and up five flights of stairs; all the while the woman kept to her song and the other two followed.

Harry had just regained his wits when he noticed where they were. In a semi-small room filled with people. People he knew and a few he did not.

The feeling of the room was clear even with the song the woman crooned drowning out all other sound, worry and fear. Most everyone had a somber expression. Even the Twins were sat next to Percy with slightly bowed heads and somber expressions.

Ginny sat in between her parents and Ron. The oldest three Weasley bothers were in a corner watching over the room.

Hermione was being held by two people. Harry faintly remembered meeting the two before second year. Her mother and father. He felt like he should have known their names.

Remus sat next to Dumbledore at a table; both washed of color. Remus looked to be near breaking the tea cup he had palmed in his right hand.

Harry noticed the young girl he had carried. She was on the lap of the man who took her from Harry, her dress no longer bloodied. The man had his free arm around what was clearly his wife and the mother of the girl. Then Harry saw the other girl. He recognized her then. Greengrass, that was her name. Daphne Greengrass. She was a Slytherin in his year. And quite obviously the sister of the younger girl he had helped if their looks were any indication.

He made to speak, but noticed that no one paid attention to the woman currently fastened to his arm even though her voice was clearly loud enough for them to hear. He looked to the woman and she gave a sad shake of her head as she continued to croon.

Harry stood there for quite a long time watching the people in the room. There seemed to be an odd passage of time. One moment the room was a flurry of abrupt, small movements as time blurred. The next moment Harry could literally count the seconds as they passed. Then it would start all over again.

There were moments when someone would move around every so often or talk. Harry unfortunately still could not hear them. He was not sure if it was because of the woman or if something else was wrong. They obviously could not see him as someone would look his way every now and again. The first few times someone had he tried to step forward only to be held in place by the woman.

The oldest Weasley men, ending with Percy, had made their way to Remus and Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley had stopped to speak with the father of the girl he had helped. The two knew each other if the way Mr. Weasley had placed a hand on the man's shoulder indicated anything.

Ron and Ginny were just held by their mother as she rocked them both. Ginny had fallen asleep thankfully. The Twins kept close to their younger brother, but did not speak.

Remus did not look up to speak either from the looks of it. Harry worried about Sirius when he saw the look of grim worry on Remus' face.

Hermione was alternated between her mother and father every once and a while. At one point the young girl he had helped walked over to her and gave her a hug. The room had warmed a bit at that, but the small effect dwindled not long after.

The woman next to him appeared to have endless lungs as she never actually quit her singing. The other two just watched the room. Each of them focused on two points, but Harry was interrupted from figuring out where they were looking when Dumbledore stood and made his way to the relative center of the room.

Harry watched as the man spoke. Dumbledore's eyes were wet and red, despite his efforts with the handkerchief he had been using. The man was making small gestures with his hands. Seemingly making a futile attempt to alleviate the thick tension from the room.

The man looked to be at the crescendo of his speech when suddenly Harry saw Hermione stand. Harry watched as his female best friend said words to the Headmaster. Whatever it was seemed to shock everyone else in the room. Molly Weasley's eyes were round. Ginny had woken up and openly gaped at Hermione. Ron sat doing a mix of what both his mother and sister had done. Remus' eyes had narrowed towards the Headmaster.

Then Hermione rushed from the room despite her parent's attempts to grab her. She ran right past Harry. He made to leave as well only to be held by the woman a moment longer. Then Daphne Greengrass passed within a hairsbreadth of him as she followed Hermione's path.

One of the other women suddenly started mimicking her crooning sister. Their voices connected in harmony and the sound washed over him; momentarily distracting him from his worry.

Harry then felt the woman pull him again. They moved right behind Greengrass as she rounded corner after corner until she found Hermione.

Harry stared at his best friend. She was sobbing openly in an empty corner of a deserted hallway.

Then he watched as Greengrass approached Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder. Their eyes met briefly before Hermione was buried her head into the other girl's shoulder, and began to shake them both with the force of her sobs.

The fact that Hermione allowed the girl to console her was surprising to Harry, but that the other girl looked to be whispering to Hermione threw him completely off kilter.

He saw the way that Greengrass gripped hard to Hermione as well. Both of them were crying and seemed to connect on a level that Harry could actually see. His head spun as he watched them. Harry had never been much for open emotion. Even in the moments he lost control, he still felt more, deep below the surface that always scared him. Between the two of them though, his best friend and a girl he had never spoken to before, he witnessed something that actually made him want to be free with himself.

He made to edge himself closer, but the first woman held tight to his arm. Then the third woman met the other two's voices in a blended harmony. The second woman released his arm and moved over to Hermione's back. The third woman mimicked the second as she stood behind Daphne. Then they each placed a hand on the center of each girl's back.

Harry felt his eyes widen as both girls suddenly lit with a glow. A brilliant wash of colors radiated from the two of them. Every happy moment, the few he had, paled in comparison to the way watching them made him feel. The song the women were singing only compounded on his elation at that moment. He felt a few wet lines make their way down his face.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his chest. Harry looked down and saw the first woman's hand had moved from his arm to lie over his heart. And suddenly, he both felt and saw the glow come from him as well. The same brilliant crash of colors. Then he watched as an ethereal chord stretched from his chest, and then split ever so slightly as it connected to both Hermione and Greengrass.

Something must have caught the girls' attention because they broke their hug briefly, and in that moment Harry witnessed that a chord stretched between the two of them as well.

A tug on his arm brought his eyes to meet the first woman's gaze. Then he felt an odd shift in the air around him.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Part Three: This is the Sound of One Voice**

_**August 12-13, 1994, Time indeterminate St. Mungos Hospital **_

He found himself in a room where a group of healers, if their green robes were any indication, furiously worked on someone. He could still hear the women singing, but they were nowhere to be seen

Harry felt his stomach drop as he caught sight of his own face, pale and ashen, on the table in front of him.

A healer poured potions and smeared murtlap onto the slow-to-closing wound on his body's stomach. Another poured multiple potions into his mouth, forcing as much down his throat as possible. There was a third one who wiped and scrubbed a horrid looking substance from his forehead.

"I apologize for making you see this." A voice caught Harry's attention. It's the same man he saw right before- "I'm especially sorry for being the one who placed you in this situation." The man turned to him, "and before you ask, yes I am Death."

Harry felt himself freeze in a literal state of shock. The man directed his attention back to Harry's body on the table. From the side Harry could see that the man was young. Early thirties at the most. He also had a light beard.

"You have to understand that this is an unusual situation for me as well—Harry." The man—Death smiled as he turned back to Harry. "I do not usually meet with someone this early."

The man—erm Death—took a step towards Harry.

"Umm" Harry felt it slip from his mouth. His stiffened shoulders did not go unnoticed by Death. He sent a forgiving smile towards Harry and moved back.

"Am I—dead?" Harry asked.

"Well, that is a complicated question—with an equally complicated answer." Death motioned towards Harry's body on the table. "You are both, and you are neither." Death gave him a tight smile. "Your body, as you can see, is still alive—if barely. And you are also here with me." Death moved to lean against the empty cabinet, no doubt its empty state was due to the mess of phials that littered the floor next to the table his body lay on at the moment.

"Oh—okay?" Harry tilted his head as he stared at the healers working on his body.

"There are many things that will begin to happen now." Death's voice brought Harry's attention back to him. "My companions —" Death motioned to the door, where Harry saw the three women from before stood curiously smiling at him, "and I have seen fit to that—these are the Fates Harry." The women giggled slightly and curtsied. "They're not much for speaking—especially to your kind." Death turned and gave an odd look to the women. "Though I'm sure with their propensity for theatrics, they made bringing you here quite the spectacle in your eyes." The one who had lead Harry to this point stuck her tongue out at Death, who in turn rolled his eyes.

Harry felt lost at this point, and a bit angry.

"Sir!—erm Death?" Harry tried to intone as much courage into is voice as he could. "Why am I here?" Harry met Death's eyes and waited for the response.

"You are here to die, and then live." Death smiled at what Harry was sure was the confused look on his face. "Cryptic—I know, but it is how things must be explained." Death moved from leaning on the cabinet to stand in front of Harry. "From this point forward your life will be your own—if you so choose." Harry was set to question this, but Death raised his hand. "Your life—has never been yours—at least not completely. I have seen every horrible thing that has passed. I have seen those happy moment, too few there were for you." Harry noticed an odd look pass over Death's face, and from his peripheral he could see the women—Fates—soften in their own expressions. "I've seen what happened that night; I helped your parents move on." Harry snapped his head back to meet Death's hauntingly familiar green eyes, but did not speak. "I've witnessed every moment of pain you felt at the hands of those—people—your relatives." Harry stiffened instantly. "I've seen every moment since your received your letter to that school—since you found out about the other part of your world." Death smiled and stepped closer, but this time Harry did not flinch. "I've seen all those moments—Harry. I'm not known for spending that much time with a human—but for you I made an exception—and now—" Death moved a hand to Harry's shoulder, "now I see fit to make another—with the help of my companions."

"An exception?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but that will have to wait to be explained, as even I cannot stop time." Death turned Harry towards his body on the table. "And we are nearing the moment of importance."

Harry was about to ask what he had meant, when suddenly his body convulsed on the table and the healers fought to hold him still. The putrid looking substance boiled from his body's head and then spewed forth a black haze that shrieked loudly before disappearing. Then his body went limp and the healers began to cast spell after spell on his body.

"What—" Harry tried to ask, but then noticed the small, shriveled form that lay next to the table. It was grey and was reaching out to him.

"Not even I can help him Harry. That is what is left of Tom Marvolo Riddle." Death said quietly.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked as his eyes were torn between watching the supposed form of Voldemort and what he could only guess was his own death.

"Yes—the things people strive for and what they achieve can be similar, but have unforeseen consequences." Death looked at the small body as Harry noticed it began to turn to mist. "Tom Riddle achieved his greatest ambition, he is beyond my reach. And yet the things he has done to his soul can never be undone. The acts gave him greatness, but at the cost of his sanity and eternity." Death pulled Harry to look at his own body on the table.

His body was limp on the table and the healers and ceased in their frantic motions.

"From this point forward Harry you will be making your own choices, and you will notice quite a few things are different." Death smiled again and Harry heard the women—erm Fates—giggle.

"Aren't I—dead—now?" Harry asked.

Death chuckled slightly.

"Yes, but you won't be soon." Death grinned. "I would tell you more—so much more—but you won't even remember our conversation. At most whatever those three-" Death tilted his head towards the Fates, "-did before they brought you here; you might remember that."

Harry felt just as confused as before, but the Fates started to hum that song again and his mind jumped back to the hallway with Hermione and Greengrass.

"Hermione—and Daphne Greengrass—there was this light—do you know what that was?" Harry felt himself stutter out.

Death smiled again as he nodded. Harry watched as Death moved a hand from his shoulder to cover Harry's heart, much like the woman (or Fate) had done earlier. Then once again he watched as light emanated from his body again, and then the tethered chords shot from his chest and stretched past the Fates and the door out into the hallway.

"I'd rather not ruin the chance for you to learn yourself—but it's something that neither I nor my companions could have done—it's something only the three of you can understand—and only the three of you could build—it is simply what is possible." Death stepped in closer to Harry and whispered. "From here on out it's up to you. Do good, Harry Potter, do good and enjoy life."

Harry then felt Death push him, and Harry felt like he was falling. He fell past lights and images that were foreign, but seemed familiar. In an instant he believed he knew everything, but then as quickly as it came it left. The world went dark and silent.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

Death allowed himself a moment of wistful thought, he had done something new, and for him, that in itself was a novel idea. He watched the boy fall and the healers prepare to leave the room. He then enjoyed the way the healers heads all snapped back to Harry as he suddenly gasped for air.

He turned to the still humming Fates.

"Shall we ladies? Our part is done for now." He said. He felt a curious feeling as the three stepped up to him and two of them looped their arms through his. The third moved towards the door and smiled at him as they faded away from the room.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**AN: While I do have a someone reading over this I felt the urge to post early. As soon as I receive their edits I will list them as a Beta for this story. Thanks to all who have encouraged me in my fanfiction writing.**


	2. With New Sight

**Disclaimer: **I neither own nor claim to own the source material from which this story is derived.

**Author's Note: **This is a new venture for me. If you have questions about this or any of my other stories, do not hesitate to PM me. If you have questions as to when I will update, please view the section in my profile with the words Self-Imposed Rules.

And before anyone questions too much this **will be a** **Triad-Relationship Story**. If you have a question about it look at the description of the story in my profile.

**Enjoy**

* * *

**Of Death and Fate**

**Chapter Two: With New Sight**

**Part One: Introductions and Explanations**

_**August 14, 1994, Late morning in Harry's Hospital Room **_

Harry felt himself drift in a placid space. There was no time or worry. It felt a near century since the last thing he remembered from the waking world.

That last clear memory was of being surrounded by people. People he knew. Mr. Weasley was holding him. Hermione was screaming and crying. Ron and his siblings were all there. The girl he had saved was cradled in a man's arms, her father, Harry assumed. A girl near his age that he knew, she looked a good bit like the girl he saved. Then there was another man—someone Harry felt he should remember—he had a warm smile.

As Harry mulled over this memory, an odd feeling washed over him. He couldn't be sure if it was a memory or not, but it felt new and—yet old at the same time.

There were three women, and they had sung to him as they walked. He then 'remembered' a room and people he knew all sad. The girl he saved gave a hug to Hermione. He saw Hermione run from the room—and another girl followed her. Greengrass—Daphne Greengrass was the girl.

He felt something overtake him as he watched Greengrass comfort Hermione. Lights and tethers connected Hermione and Greengrass—and then they both were connected to him.

And then the world dropped again as Harry felt himself fall from his serene perch. This time instead of the still, calm nothingness, Harry rushed passed a surrounding carnival of lights and that wondrous song the women had been singing. He felt as his speed became exponentially greater, and then—

His eyes opened and his ears strained at the sudden loss of sound and light.

The place Harry found himself in was dimly lit, and quiet except for a low murmur consisting of two distinctly feminine voices.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and for the sound of the conversation to focus, but Harry felt his senses hone in on the two people quick enough.

He could tell one of the girls was Hermione. The sight of her hair and tone of her warm alto was a dead give-a-way. She looked to have been crying at some point earlier given her slightly red nose and eyes.

The other girl was Greengrass. She stood with a hand on Hermione's back and looked to be rubbing comforting circles.

If Harry had been contemplating something other than the two young women, he may have noticed that his eyesight, while not perfect, was leagues better than it had been before.

As Harry watched them he took in the sight of Greengrass. She was tall, taller than Hermione which meant she was certainly taller than him. He was used to that though (sometimes he even found himself wondering if Hermione wore shoes without heels for his benefit). Greengrass was also thin—Harry thought on that for a moment before deciding it was wrong to describe her as thin—she was slender. He noticed that her hair was neither blonde, nor brown. It was more of a caramel—or even a butterscotch color. Light, but warm. In fact, at that moment, Greengrass was emanating warmth. She was comforting Hermione in a way that Harry would only reserve for friends.

Harry could not remember a time when he had seen Greengrass on friendly terms with anyone, other than one or two Slytherins. She was the haughty, reserved Slytherin. Even her expression always held a disinterested air to it, but at that moment her face was open and relaxed. Her voice had even lost the clipped nature as she spoke softly.

"Hermione—don't worry about the buffoon—I'm not worried about his insensitivities and you shouldn't be either." He heard Greengrass say. "Besides, we know Potter is fine—the healers said it would only be a matter of when he wakes up—and aren't you the one who spent the better part of this past year telling me how strong he is—he'll be okay." Harry watched as Greengrass smiled and Hermione moved instantly to hug the girl in a way that Harry selfishly believed was reserved for only him—and possibly her parents.

"I'm not worried about Ronald—he is just confused by this situation—I just wish he could understand—I wish they all could understand how unfair this is." Hermione hiccupped into the embrace.

As they stood hugging, Harry began to hear a familiar music, and lights blurred his vision. Then he felt a warm tide of emotions sweep over him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the unfamiliar sense self-worth and care.

When Harry allowed his eyes to open back up he met the surprised gaze of Greengrass. He watched as the girl stiffened in an instant and her expression shifted back to the aloof mask he knew from school.

"Daphne-" Harry heard Hermione ask into the girls shoulder before she lifted her head to look at Greengrass. "What's the matter?"

Harry watched as Greengrass broke eye contact with him and her expression softened slightly as she met Hermione's. With a slight tilt of her head towards Harry, Daphne released Hermione from their hug.

Then Harry played witness to a sight he had seen on more than one occasion, but this time something had changed.

As Hermione turned towards him, Harry was gifted with observing the arc of emotions that played across Hermione's face. First there was confusion which quickly gave way to surprise. Then understanding blossomed marvelously in her expression as a bit of wetness crept its way into her eyes. Her mouth was what gave away the final emotion he was able to witness; the surprised gape that had originally appeared gave way to a watery smile as she moved faster than Harry had ever given her credit for in the past.

He sat there; the left side of his head cushioned in-between two—very womanly things—two things he felt like he should have noticed before this point in time—as Hermione cradled his head and cried into his hair.

Across the room he saw the slip in Greengrass' face. Another small smile made an appearance before she regained her emotions.

He could hear the mumbling phrases Hermione let loose into the crown of his head. None of them were properly cogent, but from the inflection she was a wash of overlapping thoughts.

"Potter." Greengrass said in a controlled voice as she nodded slightly to him.

Hermione's sniffles and whispers stopped instantaneously, and Harry felt her lift her head from his. She, however, did not remove his head from its current placement in her bosom.

"Greengrass?" Harry intoned his slight confusion into her name.

"Daphne—" Hermione's own voice held a pleading quality that Harry was quite sure he had never heard come from her before.

Greengrass simply gave a slight shake of her head; Harry assumed it was to whatever silent question Hermione was making towards her.

"Potter—My father, Cyrus Greengrass, has asked me, Daphne Calliope Greengrass, to recognize on behalf of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass—that in the early morning hours August the twelfth of this year nineteen hundred and ninety four; Harry James Potter, last scion and heir apparent of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, willingly risked his own life to rescue a scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, one Astoria Ophelia Greengrass, from death and furthered bodily harm." Greengrass took a steadying breath. "As such the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass acknowledges the Life Debt owed and will strive to meet any demands of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter in order to repay the precious gift which your sacrifice has allowed our house to keep. My Father will meet with you at your earliest convenience, and wishes your recovery to be quick and healthy." Greengrass gave a short curtsey and met Harry's eyes.

"Daph—" Harry heard Hermione whisper out softly. Greengrass gave another short shake of her head to Hermione as she kept Harry's gaze.

Harry understood in part what she was saying. What he did not understand was the formality of the situation. The one thing he understood completely was that the tension in the room was far beyond comfortable. Harry was already in a hospital bed with his head pillowed between Hermione's—breast (not as tightly as before, but still rested against them), something that attributed to his own stress at the moment. Added to that was the unblinking forget-me-not blue gaze of Greengrass holding his own. So to diffuse the tension Harry felt the need to ask a question.

"Is your sister okay then?" He asked as he blinked and moved his gaze from her eyes to take in her expression clearly.

Greengrass' eyes moved back to Hermione for a second before she tilted her head and gave him a slightly questioning look before letting another tiny smile slide onto her face. "Yes, she is perfectly fine," the smile widened slightly, "Thank you, Potter."

Greengrass gave another small curtsey, "I expect you two would like privacy." She moved to the door.

Harry felt Hermione move away from him slightly and her hand stiffen where it lay upon his shoulder. Then he noticed the small quiver Greengrass' chin gave as she reached for the door.

"Greengrass—" He said his voice mixing with Hermione's panicked "Daph—" and for the first time since she moved towards him Harry looked to Hermione. Her eyes were a wondrous sight of red-rimmed pools of deep cinnamon and chocolate. Those eyes held a begging quality of unspoken want—need to have the other girl in the room. In a moment of un-paralleled insight, insight that one day he could see himself be proud of, he knew he had no right to question Hermione's connection with Greengrass. The girl obviously held a place of importance to Hermione—and from the look of it the reverse was true as well.

"Greengrass." Harry said again as he turned to see where she had stopped with her hand on the door. "Daphne—If you don't mind—I could do with the company." He smiled as she met his eyes. Her own eyes widened slightly as she gave a nod in reply. Next to him, He could hear a slight whimper.

He turned to Hermione and noticed that her eyes were in the process of moving to Greengrass—Daphne as a wide small began to take over her face.

"Thank you; I would like that—Harry." Daphne said as she moved to stand at the foot of his bed.

A small silence overtook the room as Hermione stood next to him nearly vibrating with excitement, anticipation, or nervous tension; given the energy she was emitting it was quite possibly all three.

He watched as the girls exchanged a seemingly silent conversation with minute head movements and the slight narrowing or shifting of eyes.

Harry finally felt the need to say something—or more succinctly approach the hippogriff in the room. "Hermione?" He asked his friend and waited until she looked down to him, "Perhaps a proper introduction is in order? Considering—" He smiled sheepishly to Hermione as he motioned to the air in-between himself and Daphne.

"Oh!—Yes!—Daphne, this is my best friend Harry Potter!" Hermione's hand found his as she said this, "Harry, this is Daphne Greengrass my—" Hermione paused and seemed to have lost her normally eloquent command of the English language. Her free hand was frozen in the air, in the direction of Daphne.

Daphne's face was a mask, but her eyes held that same quality of need that Hermione's had held just moments before.

"Other best friend—I'm guessing?" Harry supplied for Hermione with a small grin.

Hermione sharply met his eyes, her own wide. She tentatively nodded her head before slowly looking back at Daphne; whose eyes had eased and appeared a bit watery. "Yes, Harry—my other best friend." She stated as she moved to the other girl and took her hand. They must have looked an odd sight in the moment of silence that passed. Hermione's arms wide along the length of the bed as she held both of their hands.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

Perhaps if they were more cognizant of the auras around them, they would have noticed a slight flare in Hermione's as she gripped both of their hands.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

As the moment passed Hermione turned back to look at Harry.

"How—how did you know?" She asked with a shy look.

Before he could think too long, a whisper from somewhere deep inside him brushed past his mind and burst from his mouth, "You've always seemed to know what I am thinking, and always seem to know more about me than even I do—perhaps I'm just finally catching up."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Hermione, similarly, flushed bright as she tightened her grip slightly on his hand. Daphne raised a delicate eyebrow, accentuating her elfin face, and sent a small smirk to Hermione's shifting eyes.

"Oh! Well—I" Hermione began, but stuttered on the thought.

Harry could feel the tension slowly rise again, and allowed his thoughts to flow unbidden once again as he looked to Daphne.

"Thank you for comforting Hermione." He said with conviction. "I'm not so great with things like this, but I'm glad she has someone close enough and that she trusts enough to accept it from." Harry gave Daphne a smile.

The Slytherin girl gave him a wide-eyed nod in return before moving to meet Hermione's gaze.

Once again they held a small conversation that was not vocalized, and Harry felt himself angry that he never noticed her friendship with the other girl. He was not angry that they had the friendship, but more to the fact that he had apparently not held up his end of Hermione's and his.

'How long had they been friends?'

'How did they become friends?'

'How was he so blind that he did not notice?'

The questions flowed through his mind as they held their non-verbal conversation. The last one to go through was 'What were they saying about Ron?'

As he looked up he noticed there looks were becoming sporadic as they shifted their eyes to him every few seconds.

"Hermione? What were you saying about Ron a few minutes ago?" He asked watching her expression darken slightly and Daphne's mask slip back at the mention of his other friend. "What happened?"

"Ronald seems to be under the misconception that he has a right to question my friendship with you, because of my friendship with Daphne." Hermione replied hotly as she finally released both of their hands and crossed her arms in a huff. "I mean honestly! He can be the most infuriating fool! How dare he say what he said! And all the while acting as if I didn't care that you were—" She continued as she built up a head of steam. Daphne's hand touching her shoulder seemed to calm her slightly.

"Weasley had a few choice words about my character—in all honesty I'm surprised it was not worse than it was." Daphne offered, mask still in place.

Harry furrowed his brows. Yes, Ron could be insensitive and rash with his words, but deliberately hurtful. The other girl was in Slytherin, but she had never been blatantly prejudiced against them. To his memory she had also never been part of Malfoy's little group.

"I'm sorry for whatever he said. Ron does not always think before he says something, not that it is an excuse. In all honesty I normally have the same problem" Harry supplied quickly. Hermione turned to him with widened eyes. Daphne's mask fell slightly as she quirked her eyebrow again. "I don't know how you two came to be friends—" He noticed them dip their heads and exchange a look, "But it's obvious to me that you are indeed friends, and I would personally like to know how you two became friends—and how long I've been here." He offered, what he hoped to be, a reassuring smile.

Hermione's smile was easily one of the largest Harry had ever seen. He suddenly found himself hoisted up slightly as she buried her face into his neck; which he noticed at that moment was bare like the rest of him under the sheet.

Daphne's reaction was much more reserved, for obvious reasons, as the girl gave him a questioning smile and, what he imagined to be, a relieved nod.

"Oh Harry, yes, we'll tell you everything," Hermione said as she broke the hug, "You've been here for two days—it's the fourteenth now." She smiled as she moved to sit on the bed next to him.

He shifted himself, and the sheet, to sit up and cover himself fully.

Daphne moved to sit in the chair next to the bed, her left knee touching Hermione's right.

"You—well let's just say that it was a rough few hours after they brought you in." Hermione's expression was a mixture of a grimace and a smile as her eyes tightened and watered. "I was so scared when we saw you—Harry they said you were gone for a few moments." She whispered the last bit as she leaned in and hugged him tight again.

Harry was confused slightly at the news of his apparent temporary death, but had other worries. For instance despite being a, now, fourteen year old male, and naked, his body did not have the reaction he worried about given Hermione hugging him while he was nude besides the heavy sheet covering him.

"I'm okay Hermione." He said as her soft sobs slightly shook them. Daphne seemed to be watching him with expectation. Expectation of what; he was not fully sure, but he would try his best. "Really, I'm fine. In fact—" he took a moment to really give himself an internal check; there was soreness on his right side but that was it, "I feel pretty good." He nudged her away from him to get a good look at her.

She obviously had spent a good amount of time crying in the two days prior. He took in the dark circles behind the red-rimmed eyes and the tired quality her watery smile produced. He was amazed at the raw emotion Hermione was showing him—but he was also amazed at the clear vision of Hermione.

"Hermione—where are my glasses?" He asked.

"Oh Harry I'm sorry." She moved to the table next to his bed and pulled the wire-framed glasses.

"Actually." Harry started as he lifted the glasses to his face. Before they were even halfway up the bridge of his nose he could see the difference in focus between not wearing the glasses and wearing them. For some reason not wearing them was much better at that point. "I don't need them—" He pulled them back off and folded them, "I can see fine—earlier when I first woke up—you and Daphne were a bit blurry, but I can see you just fine right now." He smiled at her calculating look. He could practically see the wheels turning at speeds that would put the Hogwarts Express to shame. "Hermione." She looked up to him as he said her name. He looked over to Daphne then. "I believe you two were going to tell me how you became friends."

Hermione's head swiveled from him to Daphne and back. "Harry I know you're trying to distract me, but I did say we would tell you." She narrowed her eyes slightly and he could not help but smile at the look she gave him. "But we probably should have made Healer Jones aware of you being conscious as soon as you woke up." She made to stand, but Harry moved quick in taking her hand.

"Hermione." He said catching her eye. "As soon as you tell them I'm awake—I'm going to have to deal with answering a lot of questions—I'm going to have to listen to whatever has been happening—and to be honest I would really, really much rather hear this story. It would be much more interesting to know how you and Daphne got to know each other." His smile, if he was privy to information that passed in the girl's lavatory, was the thing that made most of the female population of Hogwarts week-in-the-knees on its rare occurrence.

Hermione smiled and blushed as she ducked her head and looked over to Daphne, who smiled and met Hermione's eyes.

"Okay then Harry, but I'm going to get Healer Jones the minute we finish this okay?" Hermione gave him a wry grin when he nodded.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Part 2: How the friendship came to be**

**_Mid-October 1993, Hogwarts Library_**

Daphne and Hermione were sat in a rarely used corner in the Ancient Runes reference section of the library.

Daphne had been watching her for the past month and a half and noticed quite quickly that Granger was doing the impossible given the new standard scheduling for third years. Just the year before it was made mandatory, by the board of governors, not to allow for all subjects to not be taken at the same time. Too many students had suffered breakdowns during both OWLS and NEWTS examinations. So the fact that Granger was able to do this according to all the information available made Daphne suspicious.

They had been assigned as partners for not only the Arithmancy project of building a basic charm formula, but were given their current project of building a rune cluster of the beginning Nordic script they had been studying.

This amount of time together was what had originally made her notice the other girl's seemingly impossible schedule, and also gave her the opportunity to question her about it.

"So Granger—" Daphne started as she waited until the other girl looked up and met her eyes, "how is it that you're in every course offered when I know you could not possibly be in Divinations when you are in Ancient Runes with me, yet I have it on very good authority that you are, in fact, in both classes. And have yet to miss a period of either." Daphne would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the way the girl's mouth flopped open and her face took a heated quality as she snapped her mouth shut. Right before she could speak Daphne cut her off, "Going to try and deny it. Okay then, let's look at the facts. On top of what I already know, I quiet easily remember seeing you in here right before lunch period began not three days ago—yet I took the quickest way down to the Great Hall. You were still here reading when I left, but still you somehow managed to beat me down and be halfway through with your meal all in three minutes. I've considered many things, but none make sense—not even a potion called polyjuice." The other girl opened her mouth again to try and retort, but Daphne beat her yet again. "I wondered how that could happen, so I ran back up here—do you know what I saw? —You. Sitting right where you were when I left. Not one thing different except your page I bet. And that has happened every day since, more than likely you're down there now—perhaps I should run down and check." Daphne leaned back and enjoyed the way the Granger's eyes shifted about their reclusive alcove.

For her part, Hermione was rather quick on the uptake of figuring out that this moment was the one McGonagall had prepared her for when she was first given the ability to take her classes. After her quick scan of the area she met Greengrass' eyes. "How are your privacy charms?"

"Superb." Greengrass said and quirked her eyebrows as she drew her wand. Her face never gave way her impassive expression as they both cast the necessary charms.

After setting down her wand Hermione asked the question she already knew the answer to, "I don't suppose you would let this go?" After receiving the negative headshake from the other girl she steeled herself. "I have questions before I tell you how I have been able to handle my class schedule."

Greengrass nodded again.

"First, will you be using this information to lord over me or blackmail me in anyway? I ask because if so we will be having a problem." Hermione intoned as much authority in her voice as she could.

"No, Granger—I don't intend to lord it over you." Greengrass replied with a smirk.

"Okay, good!" Hermione's sigh of relief may have been louder than she intended. "Second, do you intend to notify others of this information?"

"No, Granger—I have no intention of doing anything with this information." Greengrass smiled slightly, "You and I are very similar Granger."

"How so?" Hermione bristled a bit at the flippant tone of the other girl.

"Oh don't take offense Granger, I meant none. Just that birds of a feather, flock together." She gave a slight giggle. "You and I are the top two students in our year. With you edging me out by a few Outstanding." Greengrass leaned over the table. "But more to the point we are also a bit different from our Ravenclaw competition; in that our drives are very similar. You, no matter how much you may disagree, wish to prove yourself better than what others like Malfoy claim you are." Greengrass stopped her from trying to retort. "Now, now. We both know his second hand ideologies are pure drivel based not only on the fact we have you as evidence, but Potter's Mother is a prime example of their fallacy." Hermione's eyebrows rose as Greengrass said this, "I am driven to prove my family is indeed better than those who see us as not deserving of our title." Greengrass gave a wan smile. "My family's roots are mixed English and Icelandic. We still have ties to Iceland and my mother is originally from Iceland, which all the other 'pureblood' families see as a sullying of the line. And they have no problem expressing this during the lovely parties they decide to invite us to." Greengrass tilted her head and gave a quirked eyebrow. "Any more questions?"

Hermione watched the girl for a few moments and though she had many questions only one really bothered her. "What do you plan to do with this information? I know you said it was a personal curiosity, but—"

"Why would you want to know if the situations were reversed? What would you do with it Granger?" Greengrass said suddenly. "I've worked out that whatever it is; a professor gave it to you. More than likely it was Professor McGonagall; after all you're her favorite. Which means you were allowed this—so there is no point in telling someone. On top of that you obviously know what you're doing if I'm the only person who has figured it out—and that is only because we've been made partners in two classes." Greengrass leaned back in her chair again. "As to what I want to do with the information; nothing. I see this as a simply sating a curiosity; and possibly finding a foothold into cordial acquaintance-ship with a person I will more than likely be working with for the next five years if Professors Babblings and Vector go by alphabetical order—not that I would mind as you are the other most intelligent person in our year, so we are assured O's on every project." Greengrass finished with a smile.

Hermione knew she had no other option, but she also felt as if she was betraying McGonagall in being found out especially so quickly.

Greengrass must have sense her trepidation because the other girl offered this, "If you would like I will offer a binding oath on my magic to keep your secret." Greengrass already had her wand in hand and at the ready.

"NO!" Hermione screamed as she dove across the table and shoved the other girl's hand down. "I've read about those! You could **lose** your magic!" Hermione said indignantly.

Greengrass laughed lightly, "Granger— that is the point of doing it. I am sure of my ability to keep this a secret. So I do not mind making the oath."

Hermione kept her hand on Greengrass's for a moment and pondered the girl's sincerity. Greengrass, in Hermione's opinion, did not come up wanting.

"No, I don't think that is necessary." Hermione released the other girl's hand and sat down properly. She reached into the neckline of her jumper and pulled the chain and time turner out. "This—this is how I have been doing it. It's a—"

"Time turner." Greengrass smirked. "I figured, but I didn't know how McGonagall could get one." Greengrass shook her head. "She either did some very, very questionable things on behalf of her favorite student, or she called in a large favor from someone within the Department of Mysteries—either way I'm impressed—and a bit envious." Greengrass finished with a surprisingly genuine smile as she leaned forward and looked at the object. "I bet your schedule is relentless even with this—I'm guessing you regulate where you can be within the castle at any given time period." Greengrass looked up to her.

Hermione nodded, and if she was honest with herself she was also preening slightly on the inside with Greengrass's praise.

"Okay Granger, my curiosity is appeased." Greengrass smiled. "Now, I have to tell you. You need to get some more rest—you look like you've been drug about by that large dog the groundskeeper has in his cottage." Hermione moved to interrupt, but Greengrass kept going, "Look, I'm not going to force you—but you and I are partners as well as competitors for top slots. I don't want to lose the person who challenges me for that. If you are not sleeping or resting at least, you will not be able to keep up." Greengrass finally let her wand down on the table. "Look I—I really would like to have a cordial—friendship; especially given our position at the moment. It would be easier if we were to keep it confined to our work and this library, but I wouldn't mind if it were a friendship of outward expression—especially considering it would give Malfoy a puzzle for his pitiful excuse of a brain to try and figure out." Greengrass smiled.

Hermione smiled as well at Greengrass's observation. "Okay I will attempt to find more time to rest, I had originally planned to possibly get a few extra hours of sleep around the time of exams anyway." Hermione extended her hand to the other girl. "I will promise to try and make sure I maintain a proper schedule to keep the standard of our apparent competition—and it's Hermione."

Greengrass smiled and shook her hand in return, "Glad to hear it—Hermione. I'm Daphne."

**_Of Death & Fate_**

For the next few months the tentative friendship of the girls grew to an actual surprising depth.

They both found solace in the secret they shared. Hermione in particular enjoyed the fact that she had female companionship, and it was not convoluted with the giggles and talk of makeovers Lavender and Parvati always seemed keen on bringing into their conversations.

Daphne enjoyed the companionship and conversation that Hermione always provided. Her other friend Tracey was a great girl, but their interests were always divided when it came to academics. Tracey was much more a fan of Care of Magical Creatures and an adamant lover of true Divination(though she was not a fan of Trelawney's class).

The two girls found themselves in a great partnership when it came to their projects. Daphne's family held, what she called, the largest personal collection of runic text outside of the Egyptian Head of Gringotts Library. She herself had spent most of her free time as a child within her grandfather's study going over his personal notes on Sanskrit versus Hieroglyphic text and conversing in Old Nordic tongues while her grandfather fed her too many sweet treats in her mother's opinion.

Likewise Hermione had a natural propensity for Arithmancy. Because of her primary school education and her father, Richard, she had learned quite a bit of both Geometry and formula manipulation within algebra.

As such the two girls had long since passed the first part of their projects while the others in the two classes were just beginning to break through their first understandings of the subjects.

Most of their free time was spent talking over their shared interest in academics and sharing information about the muggle and wizarding world. Hermione did under the umbrella of their burgeoning friendship share the truth about her and Harry's adventures (Ron's part was said, but Daphne found it unimportant).

Daphne expressed her worry over the two boys' lack of not noticing Hermione's schedule and behavior. Specifically she questioned about Harry to Hermione's discomfort sometimes. Daphne did make sure to not push Hermione's very strict boundaries when mentioning the Boy-Who-Lived.

This young friendship did receive a sudden depth in the days following the first of the new term.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**_Early-February 1994 Hermione and Daphne's table in the Ancient Runes section_**

Daphne was quite angry during this time period. Not at Hermione, but at her supposed two best friends. Especially at Harry Potter.

"I mean honestly Ronald just blamed Crookshanks without any real evidence. I know for a fact that Crookshanks goes in there to see Harry all the time so his infernal rat was safe all of those other times. This was no different!" Hermione's rant was understandably longer than usual.

Daphne's anger had been growing since she had returned from the Holidays to find Hermione overworked and moping over the incident with Potter's broom. Then that time of silence between the boys and her friend had lasted until yesterday when her friend had tried to approach Potter only to be interrupted by the pompous redhead. In retrospect she may have bitten off more than she had originally planned when beginning her friendship with Hermione, but now she was invested in the girl and was thoroughly pissed at the way her friend was being treated.

"Hermione —is their friendship even worth it?" Daphne asked a little louder than she had planned, but their area was warded properly so she did not worry. "I mean are they really worth it? Weasley is a buffoon of immense proportions, and Potter, despite everything you've said, has no backbone when it comes to defending you from the idiot. And neither seems to care enough to see how you've been so withdrawn and tired this past month. They haven't noticed anything about your schedule. For Merlin's sake they didn't even celebrate your birthday! So why, on all of Gringotts gold, do you put up with them?" Daphne huffed.

"Daph—they—Harry was my first friend—I know he is a bit stubborn and he didn't listen to why I did what I did about the broom, but he's my best friend." Hermione had, the now common, tears coming from her eyes. "Ron and I have never gotten on that well, but he doesn't —"

"Don't tell me he doesn't bother you when he says those things." Daphne said, surprised that she was even beginning to cry. "Just like I know it hurts you when Malfoy runs his mouth. I know its worse because Weasley is supposed to be your friend; and worse off Potter doesn't defend you."

Hermione's chin wobbled slightly as she began to wipe furiously at her eyes. "Daphne —I can't give up on them —especially not Harry." The first sob shook her hard, and Daphne found herself moving to her friend. The Slytherin girl was not used to giving comfort to anyone but her sister, and yet on instinct and need she found herself wrapping Hermione in her arms and putting her own head onto the girl's shoulder. "I know, more than Ron or anyone, that he —how much —how much he hurts —how much those people —." The girl's sobs were testing their charm's strength. "He's my best friend, Daph. And I can see it. It's there and no one else seems to care about it."

Daphne was not sure what Hermione was fully talking about, but she had always followed the unspoken rule about not bringing up anything about Potter and his seemingly complicated life. And given the girl's current state she figured that moment would be inappropriate to delve into the issue, so she did what she felt was right. She allowed Hermione to hold onto her for dear life until the girl had finally calmed down enough to speak to.

"Hermione, I'm sorry that I brought up the situation like that." Daphne smiled apologetically, "how about we pack this up and go to the Room of Runes? You can take a kip on that lovely sofa in there and we can relax for the afternoon?"

As soon as she had mentioned a rest, Hermione had let loose a large, involuntary yawn and followed it up with a wan smile.

"It's okay Daph —and a nap sounds lovely right now." Hermione smiled. "Thank you, for this though." Hermione blushed slightly, "I'm not used to 'girl' friends —and it's quite nice to have someone who understands."

Daphne had a light laugh as she pushed their collective books into each bag. "Yeah, it is nice. Tracey and I get on well, but we don't really get to spend time like this."

As the two dropped their wards and made their way out of the library they each were secretly pleased that the stressful event brought them closer.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

In the months following the Scabbers incidents Daphne was still quiet about Hermione's friendship with the boys. She of course would bring up how she questioned their intelligence and loyalty to not notice Hermione's schedule situation, but she would not overtly bring up major instances.

The two from that point did bond quicker and both let slip the last bit of their masks concerning one another. As they finished their projects and made use of their extra time the two began to slowly relay their earlier life experiences in mass.

Hermione was quick to explain her strict attitude about education, and how it was her safety net during primary school. She admitted to the bullying she had suffered within her muggle school. She had been quick to say that while she did not let it affect her during the day, at night, with her parents, she would often cry and enjoy the comfort of her parents love. Hermione expressed her want to bring Daphne into the muggle world and show the pureblood girl the real wonders of the mundane world.

Daphne, in turn, told about her family's life and the warmth of her family within the confines of their home. In the public world her father was known as a hard man, just like his father before him, and never supported a specific agenda outside of his export/import business. She explained the social structure of the 'pureblood' world and its hierarchy (though she was careful to bring up Potter's place in it as she wished to speak with her father about that). She promised to bring all of her books on the subject of wizarding nobility and proprietary practices to Hermione for the next school year.

The two girls enjoyed the time they had together, and once again their friendship deepened after the capture and escape of Sirius Black.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**_June-two hours after Hermione is released from Hospital Wing- Their table in the library_**

"I, Daphne Calliope Greengrass, do hereby swear upon my life and magic that any and all information discussed by myself and Hermione Jean Granger during this conversation will remain only with me. I will not speak, write, or express in any fashion what I come to learn unless expressly allowed by Hermione Jean Granger or by Harry James Potter." Daphne said before Hermione could react. She then nonverbally cast a _Lumos_ and _Nox _in quick succession as a preliminary proof of her offered promise.

"Daph! What the hell are you doing?" Hermione screeched.

"Hermione we've spent the last hour arguing over whether you are going to tell me why you're bandaged up, and why Potter, you, and Weasley were seen leaving the Hospital Wing today in your current condition. I know you've had another one of your ridiculous adventures, and I know it had to have been revolving around Potter and Sirius Black." Daphne kept her hard stare at Hermione. "So now that I have offered my oath and added Potter just in case, I want to know why I'm guessing your life, my —my best friend's life, was endangered yet again." Daphne allowed her stare to soften a bit when she finally allowed her formally unspoken level of friendship with Hermione to be aired out.

"Daph —" Hermione smiled at the new milestone of admittance. Inside she knew it was not her story to tell, and that Sirius' safety was a factor. But she also knew, somewhere where logic did not matter inside her, that Daphne was a true friend and confidant. The girl had kept her secret about the time turner and been the only other friend that was as close to her as Harry. "Okay —well a lot of things we've been told are wrong about what happened the night Harry received that damned nickname —especially dealing with Sirius —"

And Hermione told the story, sparing no detail, and Daphne listened with rapt attention.

"Hermione —" Daphne said a few minutes after Hermione finished the story. "Potter just cannot catch a break can he?" The blonde finished with an awed sense of respect for the boy. "I'm sorry to focus on this, but he drove off two hundred dementors? He cannot only produce a patronus, but one powerful enough for that?" Daphne watched Hermione nod. "Slytherins soggy shorts! Do you know what that means? I mean do you really understand?" Before Hermione could answer, Daphne continued, "Hermione, given everything. I need to talk to my father this summer —"

"Daph you made an oath!?" Hermione took hold of her friend and gave the beginning of a glare.

"No, not about this Hermione. This is about something that's been bothering me a while now, and this —" Daphne shook her head, "story just made it more convoluted." Daphne made Hermione take a seat back down next to her. "Something is very wrong with what happening with Potter —with Harry. Either both the wizarding world and muggle world have been making a long series of cock-ups with it comes to him, or —" Daphne rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I'm not sure, but there are things that Potter should have been made aware of if I'm not mistaken."

"What things?" Hermione asked as her indignation was overpowered by her focus on anything to do with the mistreatment of Harry, a focus Daphne became keenly aware of during Hermione's story.

"I'm not sure I should say yet —" Daphne shook her head slightly, "There may be things I don't know, but given his family and heritage." She scowled, "The Potters are an old family Hermione. Very old, and very powerful, and with very specific codes. I know there are strict guidelines for rites of succession, but he is the last heir." Daphne took in her friend's brow beginning to crinkle and the way her nose flared, "Hermione let me talk to my father. He deals with both the Wizengamot and the people of Gringotts. He'll know the laws better than anyone, and if not, Grandfather will be visiting in July."

Hermione nodded slightly.

"I won't tell them or anyone else what we spoke about today. I promised, you're my best friend other than Tracey, and I won't lose you." Daphne said with a shy smile.

"Good," Hermione replied. "Because I don't want to lose you either Daph." Hermione leaned over and gave Daphne the hug she had previously reserved for only her mother and father —and Harry.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**_Part 3: Harry's Reaction and a Healer's Entrance_**

**_August 14, 1994, Just past noon in Harry's Hospital Room_**

Harry sat for a good few minutes after the explanation of how Hermione and Daphne became friends. Hermione had apologized profusely after admitting she had revealed the truth about Sirius on top of the truth of their adventures in the boundaries of Hogwarts.

In all honesty he felt as if he should be angry, but something was wrong with feeling anger at that moment.

He watched the two girls share worried glances as the silence lingered. The glances and the way Hermione's hand had left his halfway through the explication and was now firmly holding onto Daphne's for what seemed like dear life was telling.

The fact that Daphne had offered and given an oath that, if violated, could strip not only her life, but magic, was humbling in a way. Hermione had given her trust to the girl and the girl had not let her down. Daphne had actually taken care of Hermione in a way that Harry was ashamed to say he had not. His best friend had been a nervous wreck last year for the most part, and he had noticed but not done anything. Daphne on the other hand had cared for and offered a safe place to be herself.

Then Harry remembered the way he had acted during that month and a half after the Firebolt incident. He was ashamed with himself. Sure that had been one of the first real gifts he had ever received, but Hermione had only been worried. And McGonagall had returned it soon after.

For Merlin's sake he had not even celebrated her birthday.

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he looked back to the girls.

"I'm sorry Hermione." He said as his emotions threatened to get the better of him. "I —I didn't know how much I —" He felt the first prickling of pressure behind his eyes. "You always do everything, and I never thanked you —or even noticed!" He felt the tear slide down as he watched Hermione's face open into a surprised gasp. "I was a git about the Firebolt, about not noticing —that's a lie —I noticed the schedule, I just didn't think about it. I didn't question it." He pushed a few tears from his cheek before he turned to Daphne. "You've kept Sirius' secret, but you also looked out for her when I should have. Your family is not in debt to me —" He watched Daphne tilt her head to the side. "I'm in debt to you. I never had a friend before I came to this world, and somehow I was too much of a prat to not truly be one to one of the few people who has ever actually given a damn about me." He turned back to Hermione; he had given up restraining his emotions for once in his life. "You were the first person who ever gave me a hug —I never told you that, but —Thank you Hermione." He tried to force a smile on his face as he admitted one of his closest kept treasures.

As soon as he had said it, Hermione was there pulling him into one of her massive, all-encompassing hugs. The sheet that had not fallen past his upper chest slid down to his stomach and he did not care. This hug just as amazing as that first one. She was cradling his head on her shoulder and running a hand over his back.

Through blurry eyes he could see that Daphne was trying to discreetly rid the evidence of her own tears.

Then he felt Hermione stiffen, and he felt where her hand was on his back. He could feel the way her soft fingers followed the lines for a second before she just hugged him tighter.

She pulled back and gave him a look, but did not say anything.

Daphne looked ready to ask about the way the cathartic emotional release was suddenly halted when the door opened.

"Ms. Granger, Ms. Greengrass! —Girls you were supposed to come and get me when he woke up!" The dark haired beauty in Healer's robes said from the door, "I let you stay in here because I was under the impression that you would do as I asked." The woman took her hand from her hips and began to smirk. "But perhaps you decided to give him an examination yourselves?" She snarked as Hermione took in the way it must have looked and Harry yanked the sheet back up his chest as a furious blush overtook him.

"Healer Jones —Its not," Hermione started, "I swear, I —we" Hermione's blush was even worse than his. Daphne surprisingly looked calm and had a smirk of her own.

"Oh dear." Healer Jones laughed, "Darling I have charms tracking Mr. Potters condition. I've known since the moment he woke up, but I heard talking and decided to let you have a few moments of peace before I came in." Healer Jones smiled at the huff of indignation Hermione threw her way. "But I really must check up on Mr. Potter now —so if you two would wait outside." The woman said as she moved away from the door.

"Of course Healer Jones, come along Hermione." Daphne said as she rose from her chair and pulled Hermione from the room. "We'll be right outside —Harry." The lighter-haired girl said over her shoulder.

Harry nodded and turned to the Healer.

"Mr. Potter, I'm Hestia Jones. I'll be you Healer from this point forward." The woman said. "We have a lot of things to talk about, but I'll need to do a full diagnostic check over you now that you're awake. This will take a few minutes, so just lay back and tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any point. Okay?" Her voice was kind and bed-side manners were a bit better than Madame Pomfrey's.

Harry nodded as she began to run her wand over the length of his body.

**_Of Death & Fate_**


	3. By Those Who Actually Look

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the source material from which I have derived this story. Much like when I was young and built tall structures with Legos, I did not own the company, but I did enjoy making things from their building blocks.

**Author's note: **I am grateful for the support this story has generated thus far. It does help me hold onto the muse for continuing it.

This chapter in particular is told through secondary characters, and the third part is told through multiple perspectives. I believe I have made it easy to read the sections as is, but if not please alert me so I can change the format.

Some language used in this chapter is Icelandic. Translations will be at end of the chapter in A/N.

I received a PM from someone asking who I imagine as my Harry, Hermione, and Daphne. To be honest I just write and try to block out specific images as I build the characters in my mind. I'll not lie and say that the portrayers of Harry and Hermione from the films do not enter. I mean I spent most of my adolescence with their faces as my connection to the characters, so they of course play a part of it. But as far as Daphne, I really am just making her an amalgamation of women with the features I have described/will describe.

Update 6/6/2013: The chapter has been altered. Mr. Eclipse pointed out that I did tie everything a little too nicely and I had to agree. Hopefully this makes things a little less boxed in as far as progression in concerned.

Daphne's Mother is named Seraphia. In many conversations, especially with her family and family friends, she will simply be referred to as Sera.

I do have a Beta for this story, but as I am taking this story slowly I asked that she does as well. As such, I will be re-uploading the chapters once I receive the beta'd version and my Beta's name will be attached to the story then. I wouldn't want her blamed for my mistakes when the version is not the one she had looked over yet. Oh, and my Beta is one of my favorite authors on this site…so I feel special.

* * *

**Of Death and Fate**

**Chapter Three: …By Those Who Actually Look**

**Part One: A Healer and Her Care**

Hestia Jones was young. Well—young to be in her position. A fully-fledged, fully-vetted healer with her amount of accreditation and experience would normally be in their late forties at best.

But she had never been one to follow the norm; especially when it came to her passion.

"Girl just doesn't know the meaning of taking things slow!" They had all said.

"Given what she witnessed—poor girl—having to see her own parents die like that—" They would whisper when they thought she was out of ear-shot.

Hestia shook her head and looked down to the parchment as she moved her wand slowly along Harry Potter's mid-section. The amount of description into each of his most recent wounds was not what worried her; those were on the mend in record time. No, what bothered her was the amount of previous wounds and ailments that still lingered somewhat on the young man. Healer Pomfrey of Hogwarts had sent her records on the young man and made note of all the same ones that Hestia took worry with; all of the physical and medical evidence of the young man's burdened life made her a bit sick.

She looked down to Harry Potter, who was staring resolutely at the ceiling, and could not help but wonder what would show up on her parchment if the diagnostic charm could show emotional and mental health. The young man still held evidence of his crying around the corners of his eyes.

"Healer—Jones?" He said. Hestia realized she must have been looking too long. The young man's face was impassive, but Hestia figured that he had grown accustomed to noticing gawkers. She knew it would be the best time to start her normal ritual of enticing a patient to warm up to her.

"As long as there are no other green robes around, Mr. Potter, you can just call me Hestia. Okay?" She said as she let a warm smile onto her face.

"Hes—tia." He let the word roll around as testing its validity. "Hestia." He finally dropped his eyes from the ceiling to meet hers for a moment before he continued, "I'm Harry."

Hestia could not help but smile a bit wider at that; the first step of getting to know her patient was over. A sound emanated from below her wand; a growl. She giggled slightly, much like a girl his age would have done, as he blushed and appeared to ready himself for an apology.

"Well **Harry**," she said cutting him off, "it would seem your tummy has finally caught on to the fact that you haven't properly eaten in a while." Hestia placed her wand back into her robe pocket. "Clemmy?" Hestia called out and was rewarded by the soft pop of an elf's entrance.

"Healer Jonesy." Clemmy said as she kept her head down and tilted it to get a look at Hestia's patient, a faint blush spread on the young elf's cheek.

Hestia had to smile at the elf; she had just begun to work for St. Mungos and was still getting used to finding Wizards without their shirts.

"Clemmy, Harry here will be needing a bit of food at the end of my exam. Before you go down to the kitchens, I would like you to fetch some of the murtlap from my office and a bit of the silk wrappings as well. Make sure you use my stores." Hestia said doing her best to keep Clemmy's attention.

"Yes, Healer Jonesy—Clemmy remembers." The elf said as she smiled and popped from the room.

Hestia was glad Clemmy remembered their talk from right after Lord Greengrass had appointed her as the only Healer who would be allowed to see Harry Potter. Clemmy knew the importance of making sure all food, drink, medical wrappings, potions, and visitors were thoroughly screened before coming into contact with the young man.

She turned back to Harry and pulled the sheet covering him down to just above his hip and the end of the largest fresh wound. She did not have to look up to see the bright blush the young man took on as she traced the edge of the wound with a gloved finger.

Her mind flashed back to the moment she had heard him gasp for air after Healers Madson and Crept had somberly told her to quit trying to wash the wound with caustic charm nullifying potions. They had all stood stock still for a moment as his body fell limp again before Crept had leapt back into action. The look of the wound had seemingly gone through the healing process in mere moments. She had watched it closed in on itself; then harden into a scab resembling the flaky, darkened crust of her aunt's potato loaf, and finally it took on its current shape. It was red still, angrily so, but it no longer appeared completely fresh. The wound looked weeks old.

Hestia looked up to Harry. "Harry, do you have any lingering pain around this?" She gauged the contemplative expression he gave her. She saw the way he squirmed slightly as if testing his range of motion from the confines of the bed.

"No real pain—a bit of soreness." Harry said as he shifted back into his original spot. "To be honest, I'm sore all over it feels like now. I was okay when Hermione and—Daphne were here, but now—" Hestia watched as he winced.

"Okay, well that is normal, considering—" Hestia said as she made a note on the parchment about his distinction between pain and soreness. She did not like the implications of his being able to discern between the two so easily. Clemmy popped back into the room and set the murtlap and wrappings on the rolling tray next to the bed before disappearing again.

"Considering?" His voice drew her back to meet his eyes. In that moment she really was struck by how much he resembled his father physically, except of course for the eyes. Everything they said about him fit the bill.

Hestia took a deep breath as she pulled a chair around to sit next to him. "Considering you were under prolonged exposure the _Cruciatus_ curse, you should be feeling a might bit more than sore—so we'll consider you lucky in this circumstance." Hestia watched him as he tilted his head and gave her a quisitive look.

"_Cruciatus_—curse?" Hestia had to admit, even though it was wrong to think given the circumstances and his age, that the boy did have a gorgeous demeanor about him as he questioned her with the words.

Hestia shook off the pure need to wrap the boy—young man in a warm embrace and focused on coating the wrappings she had placed on his stomach with the murtlap. "The _Cruciatus_ curse, better known as the torture curse is one of the three Unforgivables." She laid both hands flat on the top of the wrappings and pressed down slighty to expel the excess murtlap onto his skin as she continued, "The _Cruciatus_ curse is said to cause the worst pain imaginable on its recipient." Hestia shifted her head to catch his eye. "I've seen the effects of it on those who endured its casting for much longer than you have Harry. A bit of soreness is certainly something you should be happy with."

"Yeah, no complaints about being a bit sore—I'm used to it—but you mentioned Unforgivables?" Harry questioned, and once again he had that cute wide-eyed look.

Hestia wiped her hands on the extra wrappings as she moved the chair to face him. "There are three of them—the Cruciatus, the Imperius, and—the Killing Curse." She watched as the corners of his eyes tightened when she mentioned the last one. "You are—intimately familiar with two Harry, the last one is a mind-control or unquestioning command curse of sorts—it will make the victim do whatever the caster desires, and without reserve or worry to their own health." Hestia watched as Harry simply nodded and lay his head on the pillow in thought.

"So—" He started as he lifted his hand to hover over his right side, "the _Cruciatus_ doesn't do this does it?" He laid his hand softly on the now thoroughly damp wrappings.

Hestia shook her head—that wound was the reason they had called for her. She had never been much for trauma healing, but she was a prodigy when it came to spell and curse identification and treatment. "No, Harry," She began, "that was cause by something else—do you happen remember what did that?" The damage she took care of—even the lingering effects it had caused.

"No, the—leader of whoever they were told one of the others to try out something he had been working on—and then—well." He once again motioned to the wrapping-covered wound.

Hestia nodded, "Yes, well it was a nasty one—non-verbal I'm guessing," He nodded, "well it worked very similar to a Diffindo, but it cut from the inside and left trace amounts of spellfire behind. My best guess would be that you were not supposed to have any outward physical evidence of the spell, but whoever was doing the casting made an error in their movement or incanting. The fact that a wound developed might have actually been a good thing, as if it were all internal I would not have been able to isolate the residual effects of the spell." Hestia shook her head as she remembered the original panic of seeing the opened wound. "Nasty one."

Hestia once again pulled her diagnostic parchment down as well as the notes from Healer Pomfrey. After she gave them a cursory glance she called out for Clemmy to start preparing his meal. The fact that the other Healer had sent her own notes with multiple personal exasperations over Albus Dumbledore's refusal to allow her findings past the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. And given the notes on Harry's reactions to Healer Pomfrey's probes into the subject, Hestia did not expect to get far with what she wanted to talk about.

"Harry, I expect that you'll be able to be released in two or three days into the care of someone with proper training." Hestia said as she gauged his slight nod and the way his eyes began to drift back to the ceiling. "Harry, there are some things I would like to talk with you about." She tried to keep her voice warm, but neutral, "The scars—the results of my diagnostic charm, and the notes from Healer Pomfrey of Hogwarts all give me worry over your condition growing up—I've seen signs of physical abuse, extended periods of malnutrition, and—and of course there are other indicators as well." She watched as his face slid into a mask without the barest hint of recognition showing.

"I'd rather not talk about any of that." His voice was what she would have expected. Not especially cold, but distant and firm. His eyes were rooted firmly to their spot on the ceiling and his right shoulder shifted minutely as if the particularly nasty scar she had seen knew it was being mentioned.

"That's fine Harry, but if you should ever feel the need to—I'm here as an objective listener. No judgments and no pity." She felt a little relief when his eye quirked at the mention of 'no pity'. "Now," She began as Clemmy popped into the room and set a tray of steaming food down in front of Harry, "I'll let you enjoy your meal and some company." She smiled as she stood and breathed a sigh of relief as the mask fell from his face. "You're in luck! Clemmy's specialty is Potato and Leek soup with a delicious cheese and tomato sarnie—I've eaten many myself." Clemmy blushed as she popped back out of the room.

Hestia could almost feel the tension leave the room as he picked up one of the sandwich halves and took a tentative bite. At his smile, Hestia felt a bit of a tug on her heart strings and a small need to connect with her new patient flare up.

"You know I actually knew your parents?" She said as she moved the chair back to its place by the wall. "Well actually I knew your mother, your father and his friends weren't much for getting to know a Hufflepuff three years their junior." Hestia was worried her statement might have been the wrong thing to say given the way he dropped his half-sandwich back onto the plate. But then he met her eyes and whatever was left of his passive mask fell and his green orbs were wide with life. "I was in my third year, and I was more than a little lost on the fourth floor corridor." She moved over to straighten up her parchments and continued, "I had gotten into a row with a friend and had a nice cry in the old Magical Theory classroom—ended up taking a kip in there as well—" She smiled as Harry leaned forward over his tray, "Your mother found me as she was making rounds, Remus Lupin was with her, and she just sort-of smiled and said that she would make sure I got back to Hufflepuff with no problem." Hestia moved to make him rest back against the headboard and shifted the tray up so he knew to eat. "From that day forward, your mum would always give me a smile and talk to me when we saw each other—I must have been an annoying little thing, but she never complained."

Hestia turned back to the door to hide the shake of her chin as she remembered the last time she had seen Lily alive. The older girl had been one of the group that arrived the night her parents had been killed. All of them had been there. Lupin, Black, Potter, Pettigrew, Dumbledore, and a whole mess of others had shown up just as the Deatheaters had begun to advance on her. They had rescued her in a grand spectacle of spellfire and sound. Lily had pulled her from the room as she began to scream while staring at her parent's bodies. She had stayed with them for the next week until they accompanied her to the Express to start her final year at Hogwarts.

"I'll let the two young ladies know that you'll be expecting them Harry." Hestia was proud at how she kept her voice level for the most part as she slipped out the door.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**Part Two: A Lord and His Thoughts**

Cyrus Greengrass had already had a long day by the time he made his way to Harry Potter's room in St. Mungos; though the lunch with Richard and Helen Granger did help his disposition a small bit.

If he were honest ever since his firstborn had come to him in late June with her worries over the Potter heir his life had been excruciatingly long.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

First had been the discussion of what Daphne had witnessed at Hogwarts, but this time his daughter had come to him with a different tone in her voice. She had, of course, told him about Harry Potter the summers following her first and second year at Hogwarts. But this time there was a lilt of care in her voice instead of the flippant way she threw the rumors she had heard before. This time she knew what had happened, and knew that Harry Potter had been done many disservices by the Ancient Houses and the Ministry.

In fact his darling daughter had been very keen on explaining the exploits of Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley (Oft named 'the buffoon' by his daughter), and her 'good' friend Hermione Granger.

His understanding of the events she had before presented as 'rumors' now being cemented with facts and a promise from his daughter that what she had been told came directly from those involved had made him worried.

He was no fool, and considered himself an observant father. He knew there was much Daphne had not said. But he could also tell there was reason behind it, and it was not of shame that she was hiding it. Though his thoughts on that ceased when she questioned him about the World Cup and if he had purchased the tickets he had been begging his girls to accept.

Cyrus shook his head and moved back to his train of thought about one Harry Potter.

A simple boy being forced into situations such as those described to him was appalling to say the least. But on top of that, that the boy had come through and persevered made Cyrus call into question his own mettle. He doubted he could have fared so well against insurmountable odds.

His own abilities aside, he wondered just how the staff of Hogwarts and the ministry had allowed such things to pass. Well he knew the problem with the ministry was its current head, (using a term from his daughter) a buffoon.

Of course there was always the next of his worries. Harry Potter was the last heir and figure of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter.

This worry was shared by his own father after a discussion when his father arrived in July to their home.

The two men had spent many talks in Cyrus' personal study going over the implications Daphne set forth.

The boy was by right allotted his place in the 'higher' society of the wizarding world, and yet he had not been sighted at any events or meeting with the older families. This could of course be partially written off, as it was not a necessity that an heir attend (James Potter had certainly exercised this choice and earned Cyrus' respect by it).

The other fact was the lack of an apparent guardian. They knew that the boy had been raised by muggles (though no one had ever seen these supposed muggles, and Daphne did not seem keen to share her information about them). But they also knew that Albus Dumbledore had been the main adult figure for the boy according to Daphne, which brought up many more questions. Daphne also expressed that the boy had spent much time with the Weasley family, who were of an Ancient and Noble House, and at least some time around those of other older Houses. Cyrus had to wonder why none had expressed their wonder at his lack of House etiquette in public.

That the boy appeared in rather shoddy clothing, blood soaked as they were, at the World Cup. He had caught a small sight of the boy as the Weasleys herded themselves up to their seats, and it made Cyrus wonder even more as to what limits had been placed on the boy's knowledge of his place in the world.

Then Cyrus' worst nightmare started. He and Seraphia had just lain down in the large bed of their newly purchased tent when the noise happened. From there it had been a furious race to get the girls and telling the elves to watch them as he stepped outside.

He had run back in quickly and grabbed the girls, his wife, and their elves (Tamlin and Clippy) before pulling them out of the tent and rushing to the forest. Somewhere between the tenth tent burning next to them and the sight of the muggles being lifted upside down he had lost sight of Astoria.

His world at that point had fallen from beneath him. He thought he had left Seraphia, Daphne, and the elves at the edge of the forest with the girl he now knew as Hermione and rushed back to the burning wreckage of the World Cup grounds. They had apparently taken his command to stay there as an optional choice in the matter and followed after him.

Somewhere in his furious pace he had been joined by Arthur Weasley and what looked to be his three oldest boys. They had explained they were searching for Harry Potter.

The sight of the boy holding his daughter had nearly taken all breath from his lungs. Then he caught sight of the blood and he felt his own drain from his face. Astoria pointing out that it was not her blood, but the young mans had left him a bit ashamedly happy. But then he took in the image the boy presented as he began to slide boneless into Arthur Weasley's arms and Cyrus' worries from the rest of the summer took hold once more.

Cyrus took a moment and thanked the powers that be, that he was able to keep himself together for the past few days.

When he was sitting in the crowded waiting room of St. Mungos, with his little Astoria on his lap and Seraphia rubbing circles on his back, he had nearly exploded with pure anger.

Of course the moment his oldest daughter's female friend leapt up from her parents arms and gave Albus Dumbledore a piece of her mind gave Cyrus a moment of peace. He smiled as his Daphne ran after her distraught friend. His daughter certainly knew how to pick her companions.

He had given Astoria over to Seraphia and promptly introduced himself to the young Ms. Granger's parents, and offered them a chance to have refreshments in another room for conversation.

As soon as they had left the now-quiet sitting room, with the Great Albus Dumbledore standing silent at its center, he had begun to praise the non-magical couple's daughter for her mettle. They had of course been slightly appalled at the language their daughter had used concerning the headmaster of her school. But with a few words as to Cyrus' understanding of the matters of Dumbledore's handling of the young Potter heir's life, the Granger's were appeased slightly.

As it turned out the Grangers, Richard and Helen, were quite lovely people. Thought Cyrus would admit to being slightly put off by their work, even after the explanation of their occupation, he found the concept of sharp objects being inserted into the mouth to be stomach turning. Richard Granger had slightly appeased his concern as to the validity of a 'dentist' by expounding the original explanation.

Seraphia and Astoria had instantly been taken with the couple as they enjoyed the tea the Greengrass elves served. Astoria, in part, had been won over by the wrapped peppermints that Helen had kept in the purse by her side. Seraphia, he knew, had been longing for company other than their daughters and house elves for the past few years. She had not had luck finding like-minded friends in the small social circles they had tried to inhabit.

The Grangers themselves were more relaxed than they had been in the other room, especially when Daphne and Hermione found the room.

The two girls looked to have had a good cry each and sat together on a large cushioned chair separate from their respective parents. And from that point forward the Granger and Greengrass families were always together when in the hospital's walls.

Cyrus had watched them over the next few days, until his talk with Remus Lupin. His daughter and Hermione Granger shared something. It was not uncommon for his eldest to be social, but for her to devote that much time into one person was—very uncommon. The way the interacted spoke volumes to Seraphia and him, and from a small chat with the Grangers, it also spoke volumes to Richard and Helen.

The way the two young women would alternate between their small sitting room and walks to the room where the young Potter was recovering was telling to Cyrus. As far he knew his daughter had never had direct contact with the Potter heir, but still she went and would actually sit next to the young man. It was a curious sight to him, his wife, his youngest daughter, and to their elves.

During a small sojourn back to his own home to gather fresh amenities for his oldest daughter had left him smiling. Cyrus knew that this was a special moment for his usually reserved daughter. Even though it was framed by a horrible event, possibly this would be an awakening for Daphne. A way of developing a deeper connection to someone not of her own blood.

That thought had been cut off when he reached the large waiting room they had left earlier. A Mr. Remus Lupin and, a fellow he had had known only in name through his Gringotts dealings, Bill Weasley had asked for a moment of his time. In the conversation that followed he had been handed a letter of summons to Gringotts and Mr. Lupin had given him a small window of insight as to what would be happening.

From that moment his day had gone horribly sideways. The meeting within Gringotts had thrown him for a loop to say the least.

To sit there and witness the sheer audacity that the Minister and his group showed was without comparison. He was once again glad for his new friends, the Grangers, for they had quite spectacularly dressed down the pompous toad Delores Umbridge for her attempted entry into the proceedings.

The only person to have his respect from the ministry that held Cyrus' respect after that assembly was Amelia Bones and her Aurors. Arthur Weasley held a modicum of his respect, but the man seemed a might confused over the situation.

Though he was pleased to be in the presence of two of the most esteemed members of The People. Ragnok, their king and director, and his slightly older cousin, TrickBow. The two most revered members of the People were rarely seen by wizards and to Cyrus' knowledge they never played audience to a meeting with non-magicals in attendance. Even before the spectacle began, he knew there was a larger reason for them to have been in the meeting. When the caller of the meeting arrived he understood perfectly the reason for their attendance.

He was just as surprised at the introduction of Sirius Black as most of the other members of the meeting, thought he did notice that a few were almost anticipating his arrival. The fugitive's way of exonerating himself of his supposed crimes was imaginative to say the least, and left Cyrus with more than a little respect for the man. In fact Cyrus had to wonder if the man was truly a Gryffindor. True the entrance of the last Black was brash, but his execution of carefully laid plans was Slytherin tactics in its truest form.

His anger had left him when he played witness to the tides of power switch nearly in an instant after Sirius Black had laid the new rules over Harry Potter's freedom down. Albus Dumbledore looked to have swallowed a lemon, Minister Fudge was white, Amelia Bones looked thoroughly pissed at the events explained to her, and the members of The People (Ragnok and Trickbow especially) looked the closest to laughter Cyrus had ever seen. When everyone but he and his wife, the Grangers, Bill Weasley, Remus Lupin and Black had been told to leave the room he had been intrigued, but had not expected the next part of the meeting.

He found himself happy that Richard Granger had offered a lunch break before their return to the hospital. He especially enjoyed the non-magical alternative to ale—the pint had been bitter and tall—he expected to experience this a few more times with the Granger man.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

Cyrus found himself rounding the final corner to Harry Potter's room. The sight that met him was warming yet again.

His daughter was smiling with her best friend. Hermione Granger looked to be in a state of euphoria as she spoke to his Daphne. His daughter similarly had a slight glow about her. To see both girls in high spirits was a far cry from their previous moods for the past two days.

"Darling?" Cyrus said, hating to interrupt his daughter's moment, but needing to explain the new situation to her. As his daughter and the other girl turned to look at him he was suddenly struck by a nearly visible wave of joy. He had to shake his head slightly to recover from the instance of overwhelming emotion the two put off.

"Father—Pabbi*" Daphne said with an even larger smile, "Harry's awake—he's perfectly fine."

Cyrus made note of the sudden change in addressing the Potter heir, before it had strictly been surname, but now his daughter was happily saying 'Harry'.

"Yes, Lord Greengrass. We were with him when he woke up—he—he—" Hermione Granger started before she looked to be near hyperventilating.

"He was perfectly amenable to Hermione and I being friends—in fact he was supportive and friendly to me. Healer Jones is in with him now, but we were going to go back in when she was finished, Father." Daphne finished for her friend, nearly out of breath herself.

Cyrus watched the two and could see the milestone for their friendship. That it hinged on Harry Potter was telling for him. Something significant happened in the young man's room as something significant happened in the meeting he had been in at Gringotts. More and more of Cyrus' life seemed to be pulled toward the young heir.

"Elskan *, Hermione." Cyrus started with his own smile. "I am happy that Mr. Potter is awake and that he has been accepting of your friendship. I need to speak with him, and if agreeable with Mr. Potter I believe you two would be more than welcome to sit in." Cyrus watched as the two nodded, but noted that his daughter hitched an eyebrow towards him as he mentioned speaking with the young man. "The meeting your parents," He nodded towards Hermione, "Seraphia and I, attended at Gringotts was very enlightening and many new guidelines are in place to give Mr. Potter more freedom in his life, but I will need to speak with him as a messenger of The People before I explain the situation anymore." Once again he watched as Daphne's eyebrow quirked. He knew his daughter would catch on to him being appointed a courier of news from The People.

As he finished making his way to them, Healer Jones opened the door to Harry Potter's room. The young woman looked to be holding on to a somewhat shaky smile herself.

"Healer Jones?" Cyrus questioned as much with his voice as possible.

"Oh!—Lord Greengrass." The younger woman quickly schooled her appearance. "My apologies, I was not aware you had returned." She moved her eyes to his daughter and the young Ms. Granger for a second. "Mr. Potter is well and is enjoying a spot of lunch at the moment, though he could more than likely do with a bit of company."

The Healer made to make her way down the hall, but Cyrus needed to speak with her before that.

"Daphne, Hermione. You two go on in—I need a quick word with Healer Jones." Cyrus said as he met the Healer's quizzical look.

As soon as the girls had quickly moved into the room he pulled the Healer aside.

"Healer Jones-" He started.

"Hestia—please sir." The young woman smiled.

"Hestia." Cyrus smiled himself. "Mr. Potter will be needing care until the beginning of the new term—am I correct?"

"Well, sir. I really shouldn't say much as to his condition, but given the circumstances to which I was notified of before my checking on him—I'm guessing you agreed to the document Gringotts sent me? The ones concerning guardianship over Harr-Mr. Potter." Healer Jones wore a smug smile.

"That I did. Which is why I'm approaching you again." Cyrus said with his own slight smile.

"In that case sir—I believe Mr. Potter will be okay to leave the hospital under supervision of his guardians as soon as two days from now. His wounds have—well, I don't know how they healed as fast as they did—not even factoring in his own core helps figure that out, but he is physically well enough to leave now. I would prefer to keep him in for observation. Just to be safe." The Healer frowned a bit. "Sir—I, well I do not mean to overstep my bounds, but you and Albus Dumbledore specifically asked that I handle Mr. Potter's case. I would ask that wherever Mr. Potter has been spending his time away from Hogwarts—or in whatever household he grew up in—he not return—especially anytime soon."

Cyrus halted in his nodding at that last request.

"Why would that be Healer Jones?" He could not keep the edge from his voice.

"I do not know much myself, but I would expect it was not a nurturing environment—I'm not sure as to how bad." The woman's voice was noticeably harder than it had ever been in the small few conversations he had had with her.

"Then I guarantee he will not return." Cyrus was resolute in that decision. "Should the need arise—I expect that you would be free to speak with him. I know it may not be your specialty—but—" Cyrus was going to continue but the Healer's hand was up to halt him.

"He is my patient and will always be welcome to speak with me." The woman smiled.

"Thank you." Cyrus smiled, and was happy that he and Albus Dumbledore had agreed on the need for one specialized Healer attending to Mr. Potter instead of the team that the Hospital wanted to use. "I will take my leave then—Thank you again Hestia."

"Of course, sir." The Healer gave a nod of her head as she turned and began to walk down the hall.

As Cyrus stepped into the room he took in the close proximity that his daughter and Hermione Granger were sitting to the now eating Harry Potter. Cyrus was sure that as the father of a young woman he should have been a slight bit protective, but the way boy looked was more than a bit heartening.

To his credit, Harry Potter seemed to be holding his own in talking to the two young women in between bites of his food. But he also looked more than confused as to where his attention was meant to be, as well as looking more than overwhelmed at the presence of Daphne added to Hermione's enthusiasm.

After gaining their attention by clearing his throat he looked to Harry and said, "Mr. Potter—Harry, I am Lord Cyrus Greengrass. And until he is cleared of all charges lobbied against him, Sirius Black has named me your Guardian."

In the moments of silence that followed, Cyrus was surprised that it was not his daughter who lost the shocked looked to their face first. It was his new ward.

"Forgive me sir, but I fail to see how exactly my Godfather managed that—given his current status." The Potter heir's voice held a large amount of skeptics in it understandably. Cyrus could not help but smile, perhaps his work on grooming the boy for his eventual status in the wizarding world would not be as hard as he originally thought.

"Pabbi?" His daughter's voice drew him from the young man's hard eyes.

Cyrus reached into the coat he had adorned instead of his outer robes before venturing out into muggle-London for lunch with the Grangers and pulled out a wax-sealed envelope. He handed the letter to Harry and looked towards his oldest daughter. "Mr. Potter, I've heard stories of your Godfather's propensity for pranking, but after what he did today—I believe he is now a legend in the halls of Gringotts. He not only duped the minister of Great Britain into witnessing him swear a blood oath in front of the Director of Gringotts, but removed you from anyone else's hands and placed you in mine—a man whose family is squarely in your debt." Cyrus smiled as the young man read the missive Sirius Black had written for him. "You are essentially a free young man."

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Part Three: A Meeting and Its Attendees**

**_August 14, 1994, Early morning to noon at Gringotts_**

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Richard Granger**

Richard Granger was confused when he and Helen had been roused from their lie in by their daughter in a near hysterical state. He was confused when he was told of what had happened at that infernal quidditch thing his daughter had been invited to. He was confused when his usually controlled daughter flew up from her seat between he and Helen and began to verbally assault a man she had spoken very highly of in the past.

His confusion had given way to slight worry when Hermione began to state (and he knew his daughter was stating and not speculating) that this Albus Dumbledore had left her best friend to be mistreated by relative, allowed him to be endangered within his school, and had done nothing to really protect the boy.

His worry shifted to anger when he noticed, that after his failed attempt to comfort his fleeing daughter, quite a few of the individuals in the room did not look surprised by the announcement his daughter had made. Sure there were others that looked to be angry and concered, but the accused man simply held a beaten quality to him. In fact the old man appeared resigned to accept what Hermione said as truth.

Richard's anger was obviously matched by his wife's, if the way she had gripped his hand and begun to grind her teeth were any indication.

In truth Richard Granger had not been a fan of this world ever since that first summer after Hermione's first year at that school. She had told them everything under the watchful eye of her favorite teacher, Minerva McGonagall. That woman had been honest with them from that moment forward, and Richard got the distinct feeling it was not entirely in the best interest of the school she worked for. The woman seemed to dote on their daughter quite a bit, not that he minded as she always kept them abreast of the situations their daughter found herself in during her time at that infernal school.

No, he had only liked Professor McGonagall—that is until he had met the Greengrass family. It was true that as soon as they had stepped into a separate waiting room of the hospital, even with their worry over Hermione, Richard and Helen had both felt more welcomed than they ever had with the Weasley family or any of the people they had met in the other waiting room. Richard was a bit ashamed to admit that he had never taken completely with the Weasley parents, but that was due to the husbands constant questions—Richard would not have minded answering if he would have been given a moment to do the same about the wizarding world.

Of course it was the adorably inquisitive little being that was Astoria Greengrass went and won both his and Helen's hearts with her sweet disposition and honest face. Of course that they had listened to their Hermione go on about her new friend Daphne for the better part of her summer holidays endeared them to the family as well.

So when he and Helen were given a summons by the tallest and oldest Weasley child it was Cyrus who Richard looked to first.

It was also Cyrus (and Seraphia) who he trusted to guide them through the entrance of Diagon Alley and through the marbled and stone walls of Gringotts to the meeting room.

Richard did look to Cyrus as to how to formally greet himself to the two goblins who awaited them in the room, but the other man looked a bit white upon seeing them. The only others he noticed waiting in the room were a slightly greying woman with a monocle, a large black man with a bald head, and a nervous looking young woman with bright pink hair.

Richard had seen goblins before, but none that had looked as the two that sat in that meeting room. Both wore styled coats, that looked almost like frocks, and carried a much more heavy tone to their forms. The tallest he had seen out in the entrance of the bank had possibly been as tall as his midsection, but these two looked as if they would be as tall as his chest possibly.

"Director Ragnok, Honored Trickbow." Bill Weasley bowed each of the goblins as he said their names. "Lord and Lady Greengrass, Remus Lupin, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and Richard and Helen Granger have come as requested by the caller of this meeting." Bill Weasley bowed once more before he moved to the wall to their right and stood.

Richard watched as Mr. Lupin bowed slightly to the two goblins and moved to the side of the table and waited. Richard had spent four years service in the Royals and knew well enough when to show proper decorum and so he too gave a bow. Helen was herself more than smart enough to follow his lead and gave a curtsey.

When Richard looked to his new friends he noticed that Cyrus gave him a nod of respect. He also noticed that the Weasley parents had followed in his and Helens suit and had already moved to stand behind two of the chairs.

That was when Cyrus' voice drew Richard's attention, and then Seraphia followed up whatever Cyrus had said. The two were obviously speaking the Goblin's language, which he remembered Hermione calling Gobbledygook, and from the look of it the two Goblins were at least pleased by that.

"Well met, to you as well Lord and Lady Greengrass. I have heard of your honoring the People, but I am pleased that I have been able to bear witness to it myself." The one that had been addressed as Director Ragnok said as he slightly bowed his own head. The one that had been addressed as Honored TrickBow also nodded his head, but remained silent.

"I have always had good dealings with the People, I trust today's meeting will be the same." This statement from Cyrus drew Richard up short as he watched the man share a look with the Director.

The Director and his associate gave a sharp sound, which given the way their shoulders shook must have been laughter. "It is good to see some wizards have no problem getting directly to the matter at hand." The one called Honored TrickBow said with a gravelly voice. "We, if you must know, Lord Greengrass, are simply acting as moderators for this meeting."

Richard took in Cyrus' face as the man held a chair out for his wife, and took that proclamation to be something unexpected. "The People plan to officiate a meeting between wizards? I am afraid I still have much to learn about The People's humor sirs—" Cyrus said before Director Ragnok cut him off.

"There is no humor on our part Lord Greengrass—well at least none that is intentional." The Director gave a slight tick of his head as a slight chuckle rose from Mr. Lupin, "We were asked by a client to officiate, and he paid for the service." The Director then gave a, what Richard assumed, tight lipped smile. "For the requested price that client paid, TrickBow and I felt it proper for us to be the moderators of this meeting." Director Ragnok tilted his head slightly, "I'm afraid anything else will need to wait until the others scheduled to attend decide to grace us with their presence." The Director then turned to the woman with the monocle, "Madame Bones, I am pleased that at least some of the staff from your ministry understands the importance of other's time." In response the woman simply nodded.

At that moment though a small assembly burst through the doors. A man in a ghastly green Bowler hat leading them with a woman in a pink suit following close by. At the end of the line was Albus Dumbledore, and Richard had a hard time keeping his temper in check at the sight of the man.

"Well good to see you then, can we get on with whatever this is about!" The man in the green hat abruptly said as he took a seat.

Director Ragnok and Honored TrickBow simply gave what Richard took to be a sneer in the man's direction. Madame Bones shook her head. Cyrus and the group they had come in with all gave a wince at the tactless man's statement. Albus Dumbledore simply took a seat close to the head of the table and gave a small bow to the two Goblins.

"Now that all are in attendance—" Director Ragnok had begun to say only to be interrupted—something neither he nor Honored TrickBow looked to be pleased by.

"Minister—I believe we should wait a moment." The woman in the pink cardigan said sweetly as she looked in the direction of Richard and Helen. "I don't believe we've been acquainted. Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. And you two are?"

Richard did not like the look or tone the woman had, especially since she had directed it towards him and Helen specifically.

"I'm Helen Granger, and this is my husband Richard Granger." Helen said next to him.

The woman gave a sickly sweet hum and a nod before she said. "Well lovely to meet the two of you, but I believe you may have found your way here by mistake. Muggles are not allowed in meetings of this nature. I'm sure one of our Auror's can help you find your—"

"We were invited, so I believe we will stay." Helen's voice had taken on that quality that Richard was quite familiar with—simply put the woman in the pink cardigan was treading weak ground. His wife looked to the Director. "Sir."

The Director and Honored TrickBow both seemed to look at his wife with no small amount of interest at her statement, but the Umbridge woman persevered in her objection.

"I'm sure you believe you were, but I'm sure whatever we will be talking about during this meeting will surely be beyond your understanding so again I—" As soon as the woman made a slight against their intelligence, Richard knew his wife would do what she did next.

"Senior—whatever Umbridge!" Helen's voice was now cold. "I do not know what these proceedings are about, but my guess is neither do you." Richard watched as Helen took a breath as she stood and placed both hands on the large granite table. "Now my husband and I were asked to be here, so that is why we are here. Our daughter entered your world just over three years ago. She is starting her Fourth year at his school." Helen pointed to Albus Dumbledore. "Since she started in this world of yours. We have had to endure hearing stories of Trolls nearly killing her, a Professor nearly doing the same, something she called a Bassilisk leaving her in some sort of comatose state for weeks, and that's not to mention whatever happened this past year. So Miss Umbridge, when we received a summons to discuss—whatever this is we will be discussing—my husband and I were happy to attend—as it will be the first time we have been invited to such a talk first hand!" Helen took a deep breath as she leaned towards the woman. "So, we will not be leaving, and we most certainly will not be cowed by some pompous government official, who does not show proper decorum when it is called for!" To be honest Richard loved when his wife was worked up like she was—it did wonderful things for their love life, but at that moment he found the location a bit dreary for daydreams such as those.

The Pink Cardigan berk gave a huff, "Now you see here! I am the Senior—"

"Honored TrickBow! Did you know that Mr. Granger has served in Her Majesty's Armed Forces?" Cyrus' voice was firm and clear in his question.

TrickBow nodded slightly in Richard's direction, "Really? A warrior—makes sense—he has been observing this situation very closely since we arrived. It is an honor to be in the presence of another who has seen battle."

Richard noticed the purple hue taking over the Umbridge woman's face and decided to play along. "Thank you—Honorable TrickBow, but I was only a medic in the Royal Marines. My skills were best served in triage and field dressing."

"Please Mr. Granger, for **you and your lovely wife** please call me TrickBow. And I would guess the role as a medic—I take it to mean Healer of sorts—has served you well in your occupation as a dentist?" TrickBow gave Richard a significant look.

While Richard was confused as to how exactly TrickBow knew of he and Helen's work he assumed that the goblin was going somewhere with this line of questioning. "Yes, TrickBow it most certainly has—and please it is Richard and Helen." He smiled to the diminutive being.

"Thank you Richard." TrickBow gave a slight cordial nod of his head. "Wonderful occupation—dentist. I asked Breaker Weasely—" he motioned to Bill Weasley in the corner of the room, "for a book on the subject after he informed me of your family—one of my duties is to look into prospects for the People's interest, and with her marks and reputation, your daughter is already prime candidate for a number of our departments." TrickBow nodded towards him and Helen. "Naturally when I began to look into her entrance into our world—I became curious as to her stock. Your profession, I admit drew me a bit deeper than I usually would go—tell me about this procedure known as a root canal if you please."

Richard began to understand TrickBow's game—at least he believed he did. After his brief description of the procedure it was easy to see the weary looks that the rest of the attendees sent towards him and Helen.

"Wonderful explanation—we may begin to institute a similar action into our—punsihment list." TrickBow and Ragnok both had large, frankly frightening grins, but neither of them had turned to look from the Umbridge woman since he began to explain the procedure. "Now Senior Undersecretary Umbridge—I personally vouch for these two people to be in attendance to this meeting. You on the other hand were not invited. These two individuals have shown my Director and I decorum, when you and your lot have not—that you speak and your Minister does not shows much about the leash he allows you, but in these walls—on this ground, you have none. This is the land your ministry has allotted The People, and your voice holds no clout—as such you will either remove yourself—or find yourself removed!"

Richard watched as the woman turned to the man referred to as the minister and received a warning look. He then watched as she gave a huff and stormed from the room quickly followed by two of the auror gentlemen she had referred to earlier.

_**Of Death & Fate **_

**Seraphia**

Seraphia Greengrass, Sera as she preferred to be called, had seen many things and learned many things since she had fallen in love with Cyrus. She had moved from her homeland, she had become a mother, she had come to know the ways of The People, and she had witnessed her youngest daughter covered in the blood of a young man touted as 'the boy who lived'.

But she never expected to witness someone of such greatness among The People such as TrickBow force someone from the British Ministry admit defeat to someone of non-magical heritage. It was to put it simply—ótrúlegt*.

Over the next half-hour she enjoyed the way Director Ragnok and TrickBow handled the two sides of the table. The lead up to all meeting held with the People was always wrought with legal jargon giving the Bank and People immunity from any dissatisfaction from the other parties.

Sera had spent more than enough time with her husband inside of Gringotts to know the small nuances of The People's bureaucratic procedures.

It was true that they covered their financial responsibilities and reputation when speaking to the Weasley family, the Grangers, and Cyrus and Seraphia, but it was also much less time consuming and simpler in language.

Sera did note that Mr. Lupin was not included in the proceedings as Director Ragnok moved to address the Ministry officials and Albus Dumbledore. Normally she would attribute this to the man's affliction or what she believed to be his affliction, but something was off about the way his mustached lips twitched into a near grin.

The side of the ministry was treated to something Sera had only seen once when she witnessed Lucius Malfoy speak with a teller. They were given the full brunt of the People's bureaucratic weight, almost to the point that Seraphia believed the Director could have given the minister a golden quill of friendship and not a word would ever be legally mentioned outside the walls of the meeting room.

It was a truly impressive feat that Cornelius Fudge achieved a hue of red and purple that Sera never thought a face would be able to attain. She was slightly disappointed that the man was able to restrain himself enough to not say anything.

The look that Albus Dumbledore wore as also interesting in that he had first appeared shocked that he was being given the same treatment as the ministry people, but his face turned serious after a few moments. He seemed to have the look of a man trying to work out a specific and complicated problem.

With Madame Bones and her two aurors a tiny bit more respect was given, but they were not spared the long explication of the People's immunity.

The most amusing face in the crowd was a tie between TrickBow's and Mr. Bill Weasley. Sera knew that, as an elder member of the Peolple, TrickBow would be expected to show no face during proceedings such as the one they were in, but from the pinched look it seemed that the elder warrior had trouble keeping his glee from showing. Mr. Bill Weasley, as a curse breaker, was expected to assume a similar station to that of a certain tier of the People's warriors, but the young man looked elated to be watching the proceedings as they were. True, both elder warrior and young human curse breaker held their faces quite well, but every so often a tiny crack would appear.

Though, to be fair, Sera also found the way Richard and Helen handled the situation to be amusing too. Helen, in particular had won an interest from the Director and TrickBow.

It was a little known fact that strong women were revered among the males of the People. The more fiery female members of their kind were always the most sought after during the age courtship began, or so said the tomes Sera had read on the subject. The sight of a female from the People was rare even to those that worked in the Bank. Of course this trope fell towards the witches who held themselves with strength and decorum as well, as even in her personal interactions with the People she found that the more authority and strength she had in her voice and posture, the more they helped freely.

Sera took that thought as another good sign from her burgeoning friendship with the non-magical couple. She had spent far too many years in England without proper companionship. She loved her husband and daughters, but she desperately needed a friendship. Considering the way the couple had been so kind, she had hoped to invite them to their home for a time before school began so as to give the girls time together-as well as time to become better acquainted with the Granger parents themselves.

That was not to say that Sera did not notice the way TrickBow had sized up Richard Granger as the non-magical male observed the proceedings. It was easy to see from the way the man walked and held himself that while he was not a typical 'Alpha' male, he was very sure of himself and more importantly sure of the woman who sat next to him. That Helen spoke for them and he was next to her giving wordless support was all he needed to earn note of interest from the higher order of the People.

Sera did notice that to her left Arthur and Molly Weasley seemed a might confused as to the situation they found themselves dealing with. Sera could not fault them, as she too was confused as to the reason they had all been called to the meeting, but she also had spent enough time in Gringotts to know that the meeting itself would be important for more than one reason.

The loud crack of a gavel drew Sera's attention to Director Ragnok as he began the meeting properly.

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**TrickBow **

As Elder Warrior and Manager of The People, TrickBow had lived a long life filled with many dealings, but the events of the meeting that had been called on the subject on the proper guardianship and estate of Harry Potter, Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter had been something he waited for a long time. For in one fell swoop he had been able to degrade a senior member of the wizard's ministry, and meet not just a non-magical warrior, but a feisty non-magical human female as well. It had been an interesting day already as his cousin rapped his gavel to begin the actual meeting.

True, TrickBow had enjoyed the sojourn into the legal ramifications on expressing displeasure on Gringotts handling of the meeting, but he had been waiting for the caller of the meeting's grand entrance (even if he was not particularly fond of the caller).

"By request of the Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, this meeting has been called to discuss and rectify the many mishandlings of guardianship concerning the Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter. His rightful placement as stated in the last will and testament of the Late Lord and Lady Potter is quite clear and furthermore the last will and testament of the Late Lord and Lady Potter will officially be released upon their son's return to health—"

"What is this hogwash—" The voice of Minister Fudge broke the attention from Ragnok. "It is well known that the House of Black has no Head of House at the moment, and that James and Lily Potter left no will! I refuse—"

TrickBow had, had enough of the loud minister in his green hat. "These things would be known if your Department of Magical Creatures read the missives we sent them. Of course there has been a near monthly call for the will of the Late Lord and Lady Potter's last will and testament, but it has never been answered—" TrickBow allowed his gaze to settle on Albus Dumbledore. "I was their personal account manager, and from my own personal experience—I would say anyone who would believe they would not leave a last will and testament, in case of tragic events, would be an imbecile. Or, of course, the missives we sent may not have been received by those they were meant for—" TrickBow gazed back to the minister. "I ask you to hold your thoughts until the Director is finished, minister, as then the caller of this meeting can have his say."

The man in the green hat seemed cowed by the sight of the warriors along the wall opposite of him—in fact many of the audience seemed to notice the true presence of the People at that moment.

"Ahem, the current status of Harry Potter's Guardianship is as such. Muggle Guardians: Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Magical Guardian: Sirius Black." As Ragnok said this, the doors opened and TrickBow felt himself nearly smile as the gaunt human male walked into the room with a jaunty tilt of his head towards TrickBow and Ragnok. Of course the gasp and quick movement from TrickBow's right was to be expected. As soon as the ministry's aurors hand their wands in hands though, the Nation's swords were at their throats.

"You will OBEY the treaty of our nations!" Ragnok's voice boomed next to TrickBow. "Lord Black is a guest of the People and as such immune from your laws as long as he stands on our soil."

"You will release that man into our—" Minister Fudge began to say, but TrickBow interrupted just in time with Albus Dumbledore's arm finding the minister's.

"Lord Black will be released into no one's custody, and furthermore any action to force such will be met with declaration of war—would you really want that minister?" TrickBow allowed himself a moment of silence as he watched the man before he continued. "Because it would not end well—plus you may want to hear what Lord Black has to say—I was quite surprised by his testimony of the events of Halloween 1981. I believe you will be too."

The man and the aurors of the room all relaxed and replaced their wands to their holsters, but TrickBow did note that Madame Bones and her two aurors had been smart enough to not draw theirs in the first place—well the tall black male had been, while the Pink haired one had merely looked shocked.

"Thank you Honored TrickBow! Very kind of you." Lord Black nodded in his direction. "Now, I have called this meeting because I am tired—specifically tired of how my Godson seems to be constantly put in danger." Sirius Black moved to sit on Ragnok's other side. "Now to put an end to my fugitive career I have decided to play my hand properly and do what I should have done last year—even though I was told—" The man gave Albus Dumbledore a look TrickBow had learned meant contempt among humans. "—not to as it would possibly bring about dire consequences."

Sirius Black took a long moment to survey the people at the table, and TrickBow noticed the small wink sent from Mr. Lupin. TrickBow begrudgingly had to admit a modicum amount of respect for Lord Black in his planning of this meeting. It was quite easy to admit that it flew in the face of the Ministry of Magic to allow such a situation to arise with one of their most lauded subjects.

"Ragnok, I am prepared to once again testify under Veritaserum my testimony of the night October the first, the year nineteen-hundred and ninety-one, as well as the morning of November the first the next morning." Sirius Black placed his back against the chair and met the eyes of the minister. "Are there objections to my offer?"

The blustering man in the green hat seemed to learn it was not wise for him to speak during the meeting, but Albus Dumbledore looked a bit washed of color as he peered at Sirius Black with a look TrickBow had only seen a few times from a human—remorse.

"Madame Bones?" Ragnok called from next to TrickBow. "As you are a Ministry Official with a history of fairness and knowledge of Veritaserum, would you be willing to verify that the potion in this vial —" Breaker Weasley moved from his spot and handed the vial to the woman, "is indeed Veritaserum?"

The woman nodded her assent and pulled the stopper on the vial and dipped her finger into the surface of the liquid. After she had placed a tiny bit on her tongue the woman took a few moments to close her eyes and breathe deeply before she stated in a monotone voice, "It is most certainly Veritaserum Director Ragnok. May I have the antidote please?"

After a quick nod to Breaker Weasley, the woman was given the antidote and she once again gave her agreement on the authenticity of the potion, and she complemented the capabilities of the person who brewed the batch. TrickBow nodded as he accepted the compliment on behalf of his wife's nephew-the whelp would enjoy a bonus by weeks end.

"Right then—Let's get this over with—shall we?" Lord Black asked again.

Once the potion had been administered, and Ragnok placed a small disk with an opalescent center onto the table TrickBow looked to the attendees to gauge them all.

He had already made his assessment of the Lord and Lady Greengrass as ones of a high caliber. He, of course, knew of the family's reputation, and Cyrus' Greengrass' dealings and investments of the People's trust. He was currently one of four allowed to fund the expeditions sanctioned by the People of Gringotts. That his family was one of the foremost authorities in the study of Ancient Runes was also a factor in his status among the People.

TrickBow found Richard and Helen Granger to be very interesting individuals. He was not joking when he said he was interested in their field of expertise. The procedures he had read about sounded as if they would be delightful additions to the lower dungeons. Though, the two did have other qualities he found admirable. Richard was a warrior, even if he had qualified his role as a 'medic', the man still looked to have superb instincts and awareness-even for a human. And of course Helen Granger was to be respected. The woman had risen to a challenge and met it head on without hesitation. That she had completed her task with respect and honor was even more interesting. In truth the woman had reminded him of Lily Potter in her actions. Both women had been unrelenting and eloquent in their verbal battles.

TrickBow had found Arthur and Molly Weasley to be quiet. He was well aware of their status in the wizarding world, and their relation to Breaker Weasley. Arthur Weasley, he found to be an affable wizard, the man did look to be a bit unsure of the proper decorum, but TrickBow would forgive that given the families contribution to the People in the form of their oldest son's vows of fealty. Molly Weasley was a woman who reeked of a domineering personality, but yet again TrickBow assumed that the woman would need to be given the stories he had heard from Breaker Weasley.

Mr. Lupin was in TrickBow's opinion a high caliber of individual, given his current status in most other's eyes. The man obviously had many issues with his affliction. Beyond that, though, he was a man of loyalty—in fact TrickBow already had plans to offer employment to the man.

As the Testimony of Sirius Black reached the point of his imprisonment without trial, TrickBow noticed the particular look Madame Bones gave the Minister. TrickBow wagered they had just guaranteed an investigation into the account and an ally in their future plans at the least.

The Minister of Magic looked to be nearly as green as his hat. TrickBow knew enough of human politics to see that the man was counting his approval ratings loss if this were to be handled improperly.

Albus Dumbledore looked like a human who had sucked a lemon—not that TrickBow understood that particular expression as he found lemons to be quite the treat.

"Administer the antidote Breaker Weasley." Ragnok's voice broke Trickbow from his observations, though, TrickBow paid attention to his cousin pulling the disk from the table. "As you can see, Lord Black's testimony is what drove us to offer him asylum in our halls—considering there is an order to feed his essence to those—dementors, we believed it best to harbor him."

"Yes—Yes, I —" Cornelius Fudge began to say, but was cut off by Albus Dumbledore.

"Sirius, I really wish you had consulted me before you —" Albus in turn was cut off by the subject of his plea.

"Shut up Albus." The cold, acidic tone Lord Black had managed in his tone was admirable for a human in TrickBow's opinion. By the look of it the other humans who were familiar with the wizend wizard (not the Grangers) looked to be in awe of the slight from the gaunt human. "You will not speak to me on what I should have done anymore—you have made too many cock-ups concerning the life of MY GODSON! LILY AND JAMES' ONLY CHILD!" That the man was able to achieve the volume he had with his current health was impressive to TrickBow. "No Albus, you no longer hold dominion over me—and as of the end of this sentence—you have none over Harry." Lord Black allowed a bit of his breeding show in his posture as he asserted his authority on the situation and for a second TrickBow could have sworn he saw a bit of feral glow in the man's eyes. Of course TrickBow could smell the other side of Lord Black, loathe as he was to admit another's strength TrickBow had to admit the man was a strong wizard and rightfully held an animagus form of a creature of strength that even the People revered in their histories.

"Sirius—please." The old wizard began to look his age as he whispered his plea.

"Honorable TrickBow if you would please." TrickBow nodded to Lord Black.

From the deep pocket of his outer coat he retrieved the last will and testament of the Late Lord and Lady Potter. The sections of bequthements was blurred to the eyes of all but him until the time of its full reading, but under the heading of guardianship all words were visible.

"As per the request of the Late Lord and Lady Potter all issues regarding guardianship of Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter shall be decided by his current Guardians and Godparents. Lord Sirius Black of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black and Lady Alice Caprice Longbottom of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom. If they should not be capable of deciding on the matter, then the decision shall be placed in the hands of Lady Augusta Longbottom of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom." TrickBow laid the parchment against the table as he finished the final note. "As per the laws of the Ministry of Magic, Harry James Potter as the child of a Pureblood and Muggleborn shall have a Non-Magical/Muggle Guardian. This guardian shall not be the blood sister of Lily Potter under any circumstance. The Non-Magical/Muggle Guardian shall be chosen by the aforementioned Godparents of Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter."

TrickBow allowed the silence to fill the room as he gazed between Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore, though he did note the incredulous looks that Albus Dumbledore received from the Weasleys seated at the table.

Ragnok once again rapped his gavel. "As per the request of Lord Black this portion of the meeting has been fulfilled by the reading of the section of the last will and testament of the Late Lord and Lady Potter containing their decisions on guardianship for their heir." Ragnok looked along the right side of the table. "All from the ministry are requested to leave as soon as Lord Black gives his final words to you." TrickBow watched as Ragnok gave a nod to Lord Black.

"You have now heard my testimony under Veritaserum. I am not asking for a pardon—I want you to give me a full trial. I was accused of a crime and I want to be cleared of it properly." Lord Black nodded back to Ragnok, who in turn slid the opalescent disk down to Madame Bones. "That is a lovely little creation that the People have come up with, press the center and you will view the events that transpired while it was recording. That will be in the hands of every reporter and paper here in Britain and on the continent within the month if I am not in trial by then." Lord Black's eyes never left the minister. "You know how this will play out if not handled properly Fudgey boy—so handle it proper." Lord Black gave one of those human smiles that TrickBow found to have enough menace to be considered threatening. "As for you Albus—if you try and do anything with Harry—I will bury you—I don't care if it's what you believe to be right and I don't care what plans you have in motion-You've messed up too many times-I've lost enough time of my life—and if I don't have him—well, I just wouldn't try any of your schemes around him anymore—right old man?" Lord Black sat down once again and gave a shooing motion with his hands.

The Minister of Magic looked to have lost all his bluster during that little mention of situation handling and took his dismissal quite literally as TrickBow was certain he could see a hint of a firetrail behind the man and his aurors.

Albus Dumbledore took a few more moments to gaze at those in the room before he quietly left.

Madame Bones on the other hand earned more of TrickBow's respect than any of the other Ministry of Magic fools, as her and her subordinates took the time to bow slightly as they made their way from their chairs.

"The Kiss on Sight order will be rescinded immediately and I guarantee you your proper trial Lord Black." The woman said as she neared the door.

"Thank you, Madame Bones—and good to you to see you again little Nymphadora; give your mother my love." Lord Black said as they reached the door. Madame Bones once again gave a little bow, but the large black auror quickly gripped the pink-turned-bright-red haired one as she looked to speak out against Lord Black's addressing her. Lord Black had a small chuckle as they left before he turned to the rest of the room.

"Thank you for your attendance, all of you." As Lord Black said that TrickBow saw him slump into his chair. "Now onto the real fun of this meeting." The man smiled. "I formally request that until I am cleared of all charges placed against me that Lord Cyrus and Lady Seraphia Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass assume temporary guardianship over Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter."

"What! Sirius Black!" Molly Weasley shouted in an even more piercing screech to TrickBow's sensitive ears. "How could you —"

"Molly!" Arthur Weasley's voice quickly cut off his wife's tirade.

"I'm sorry Arthur—Molly, but whether or not you admit to it—you are Albus Dumbledore's. And he will no longer have any clout over Harry or involvement in Harry's life outside of being Headmaster of Hogwarts—and even then he will be closely watched. Arthur, I hope you don't take this as a slight against your family, as it is not meant to be." Lord Blacks plea was honest, and in TrickBow's opinion very well-articulated.

The Weasley patriarch nodded his head. "Of course Sirius—I'm sorry, but I hope you know that we have always done nothing but care for him." The man spoke the truth, and TrickBow could see that Lord Black saw that as well. The man's wife did not look happy, but TrickBow was glad she had kept her temper in check as her voice could have been used as one of the People's war calls by pitch alone.

"I know Arthur—I know. But from this point forward we will also need Harry's key to his vault as well. It's his and I want him to have the freedom to have a bit of fun with it—though I don't plan to let him actually be able to pay for anything as long as I'm around." Once again Lord Black smiled and Arthur Weasley nodded as he pulled the key from his wife's purse and slid it down the table to Lord Black. "Now I'm sorry, but I have to ask you two to leave the room. I have much to discuss with Lord and Lady Greengrass, Mr. and Mrs. Granger and Remus." The couple left with Arthur Weasley stopping to give Breaker Weasley a small grip on the shoulder.

As the doors closed and sealed again Lord Black turned to Lord and Lady Greengrass. "So what do you say?"

**_Of Death & Fate_**

**Cyrus Greengrass**

Cyrus Greengrass had found himself in many odd situations, but the one that had been presented by the still-fugitive-but-innocent Sirius Black was a new one.

"I'm sorry, but—why?" was all the man could think to ask. He could feel his wife's agreement from the slight tightening of her hand in his.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin both let out sharp barks of laughter that startled all but the Director and TrickBow as far as Cyrus could see.

"Oh I'm sorry Lord Greengrass—may I call you Cyrus? You all may of course call me Sirius." Cyrus nodded his agreement. "Great then—Cyrus, I know your family has had dealings with the Potters in the past and given the way James' father, Charlus, spoke of both you and your father, I know he had respect for the both of you." Sirius smiled. "Hell, I know James' admired you for your actions and the way you've always been cordial with the People of Gringotts—add to that the glowing tales of how you've gotten on so well with the Grangers here, according to Remus that is—and I know you're not the bigoted sort." Sirius reached over and poured himself a glass of water from the carafe that had gone untouched for most of the meeting. "Then of course, there is the fact that young Hermione, whom I met last year during my daring escape from Hogwarts, had made friends with your daughter. That in-and-of-itself is all the recommendation I need as to what type of people she comes from." He took a long sip and Cyrus watched as he struggled to keep his apparent thirst from being improper. "Now, as to why I would pick you—there is another factor. I know due to the events that led to my Godson being in St. Mungos that your family owes a life-debt to him, and given what I know of you, you have already made arrangements to make sure he understands that debt and you will honor any request he makes."

Cyrus nodded at Sirius' assessment, "My eldest will give the oath should I not be there. And I will honor any request he makes."

Sirius nodded and chuckled as he rolled his glass along its rounded bottom. "Well, even though I may not have had a lot of time to spend with my Godson, I know he will not ask anything of you—it is who he is and who he comes from." Cyrus felt Sirius give him a long thoughtful look. "But I ask in his stead. Look after my Godson until my name is cleared and I am in good health—given my accommodations for the past thirteen years—I find myself in need of proper care—and not just physical as my friend —" Sirius motioned to Mr. Lupin, "has pointed out." Sirius sat up in his chair and met Cyrus' eyes. "I ask as one Lord to another. Please take in my Godson, treat him well and allow us both our time to heal. Do this and your life-debt to him will be more than complete, and I guarantee you that the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black will proudly align its banner with yours."

Cyrus felt the bottom drop from his world. Not only had the request been made and an offer to honorably fufill his family's debt, but Sirius Black had offered to align his family with Cyrus'. The Greengrass family had never been offered such an honor since their induction into the noble houses several centuries ago.

"We require no other reward than to honor your request, Sirius. It would be our house's honor to care for the young man who selflessly risked his life to save our child's." Sera's light voice said next to Cyrus before he could answer. And even though Cyrus hated to admit it at that moment, Sera was right to refuse the offer. Their family lived by a code of honor, and to accept an offer such as that would have been wrong given the circumstances.

"My wife is right." Cyrus said.

Sirius smiled, "Well then, I will offer the same when I am cleared." The man laughed, "I know my family has a dark history, but I'm looking to liven it up a bit—and a good alignment would do it some good. So I hope you'll consider it then." Cyrus felt once again that the odd, new Lord Black would offer more surprises for him.

The now jovial man turned to Richard and Helen. "Now, I wish to thank the two of you for bringing that beautiful, intelligent, and smashing young woman you call your daughter into this world." The man barked a laugh again. "She not only has saved my Godson's life, but mine as well. On top of that I've heard from Remus that she rivals our Lily's record for top marks so far in her time at Hogwarts —" Sirius met Cyrus' eyes again, "Though I hear that if Daphne had been able to do what Hermione did last year, she would be a rival as well." Sirius turned back to the Grangers, "Now I have asked that you two come because as you have heard, Harry is in need of Non-Magical guardians—I was hoping you would be willing to fulfill that role."

Cyrus watched as Richard and Helen exchanged a look and then looked Sirius.

"If it gets him out of that house with his relatives—happily." Helen said with a certain amount of vitriol.

Cyrus again nodded his head as he remembered Daphne's speculation earlier during the summer as to the living conditions of Harry Potter's 'home'.

"Yes—don't worry about them —" Sirius' cheek twitched and Cyrus was sure he noticed a small curl of the man's upper lip, almost canine in nature, "the Dursley's will notified that they're services will no longer be required."

Sirius and Mr. Lupin both looked a bit lost in thought as they met eyes, and Cyrus was sure that whatever fate those people had would be unpleasant. But then Sirius shook his head and smiled again as he clapped his hand.

"Well then, I believe there is another matter. May I call you Richard and Helen?" The two nodded to Sirius' request. "Thank you. Richard, Helen. It is my sincerest advice that you also ask for magical guardianship from Cyrus and his lovely wife."

Cyrus could not help but nod at the astute assessment of Sirius. In fact Cyrus was tempted to ask if the man had not secretly been a Slytherin in disguise during his time at Hogwarts—the man was just a little too good at misdirection and pointed tactics.

"Why? Who is our daughter's current guardian? Not that Dumbledore right?" Richards' voice was strong as he asked his questions.

"At the moment she only has one when in school." Came the calm voice of Mr. Lupin. "While in school her guardian is her Head of House, Professor McGonagall. Outside of school she has none and would be tried as an adult if she were to break one of the laws set by the ministry—unfair I know, but that is how things are at present."

Cyrus had to agree with the huff of indignation that Helen let out.

"The more I learn of how your world is managed, the more I don't like it." Richard said.

"I agree completely." Cyrus said and received a second from Sirius.

"We would be happy to take magical guardianship for Hermione—and of course if you would like you may join us anytime you wish at our home during the summers." Sera said before Cyrus could. "That way she would be able to practice her magic and we could have adult company while the girls enjoyed the beaches near our home."

Cyrus was quite certain that Sera had been waiting for such an opportunity and had already planned to play host to the Granger family as often as possible and more than likely had already made plans for their afternoons in advance.

"I actually think this would be a first since Lily as well." Mr. Lupin's voice came through again. "A pureblood family taking in a Muggleborn. It was the Longbottom's that took on Lily's magical guardianship." The quiet man smiled.

"Well, in that case we accept." Richard smiled as he reached over and shook Cyrus' hand.

"Marvelous!" Sirius smiled again. "Director, Honorable TrickBow—could you possibly take care of the paper —" Cyrus nearly laughed at the gob-smacked expression on the other Lord's face as TrickBow pushed three separate stacks of paper to the man. "Well then, let's—get to signing."

After the stacks had been signed and looked over Breaker Weasley, as Cyrus knew to call him, had circled his wand over the stacks and cast a charm that Cyrus knew to be something old and from the People's origins.

"Lovely, now all of you will be invited to the will reading as you are now Harry's proper guardians." The man smiled. "Plus, you won't want to miss that show." He gave a vicious grin. "Now I must away as it is nearing my medication time, Moony will you accompany me to a spot of lunch—they're serving me the most delicious rare roast." With that Cyrus watched as Mr. Lupin and Sirius left the room with pep in both of their steps.

"We will leave as well, but we wish to offer our congratulations on your new status and offer our assistance in any of your financial needs in the future." Director Ragnok said in a surprisingly less booming voice, and Cyrus felt his eyes bulge. Today really was an odd one for him. He watched the two leave as he loosened the collar of his shirt under his robes. The People never offered assistance in banking unless you held the key to a high-yielding vault and carried yourself properly, but they had just offered it to his family and the Grangers. He was quite sure he would need to express this development to the Grangers as soon as he could breathe again.

"Well, may I escort you out?" He heard Breaker Weasley ask and Cyrus was quite sure there was some cheek in that question given Cyrus' near hyperventilating state.

"Yes, please. Mr. Weasley." Sera said next to him as he stood.

"Perhaps we should go to lunch. It's nearing that time." Helen offered as they reached the door of the room.

"Well, I could use a pint about now." Richard supplied next to Cyrus.

"Yes—whatever that is—yes." Cyrus managed to grind out as they made their way back to the surface level of the bank. He had a large amount of things to tell his new family friends, and more importantly he hoped that Harry Potter would wake soon.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**A/N**: Some of the language used by Daphne and her family will be Icelandic. I'm using a simple translator and using simple words in moments when this happens, but if I get something wrong please notify me.

Pabbi=Dad/Father

Elskan = Baby/Darling/Sweetheart= Term of endearment

Ótrúlegt = Amazing

**NEXT CHAPTER: **Harry learns of his new guardians and situation. He plays host to a few visitors in his hospital room and learns more about a friend's family history.


	4. Visitors--Big and Small

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the source material from which I have derived this story. Much like when I was young and built tall structures with Legos, I did not own the company, but I did enjoy making things from their building blocks.

**Author's note: **I am grateful for the support this story has generated thus far. It does help me hold onto the muse for continuing it.

A big thank you to Burmeind for helping me with figuring out a better way to handle the mechanical breaks in this story, and offering words of encouragement.

A thank you to Mr. Eclipse as well for being honest in their assessment of the last chapter. I will be adjusting chapter three when my Beta sends me her edits and include a better handling of the last chapter.

Trongod, thank you for your continued support.

I do have a Beta for this story, but as I am taking this story slowly I asked that she does as well. As such, I will be re-uploading the chapters once I receive the beta'd version and my Beta's name will be attached to the story then. I wouldn't want her blamed for my mistakes when the version is not the one she had looked over yet. Oh, and my Beta is one of my favorite authors on this site…so I feel special.

As a warning I feel I must say that this will not be a fast-paced story, especially in these opening chapters. So if you are looking for quick pay-off, look elsewhere. I fell in love with the pacing of Sillimaure's story _**Heart and Soul,**_which has taken the time to actually build a relationship and show its growth. So my story will hopefully emulate what they have been able to produce, both in quality and pacing. There are of course many other influences in this story, but I will only be mentioning the specific authors that have inspired certain ideas for my plot as I post them.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**Chapter Four: Visitors—Big and Small**

**Part One: The New Order of Things**

**August 14, 1994, Mid-Afternoon St. Mungo's Hospital**

Harry listened as Cyrus Greengrass explained the way the secret meeting Sirius had called at Gringotts had played out. Sirius had managed to get himself a trial—and a fair one guaranteed by the head of the law department. As the man spoke Harry could not help but notice the way Hermione and Daphne shared glances over him and how Daphne looked particularly interested when her father began to mention things about the goblins.

Then the man began to talk about titles and last wills. Harry just sat naked under the heavy blanket in a haze as his lunch laid half-eaten in front of him.

Harry could tell that to Hermione, Daphne, and Cyrus Greengrass, the news of his new guardianship meant something significant for each of them. But to Harry it did not matter. He knew no matter what was done in writing he still would be made to follow the same schedule he had since his entry into the Wizarding world.

"Sir—Mr. Greengrass—I appreciate everything you're doing, but what will this change?" Harry knew his voice was bordering on a near apathetic tone, but at this point he really did not care too much. "I'll still be going to Hogwarts, and then I'll be going to my—relatives—for summer holiday." Harry looked down and shifted his back against the headboard allowing the area his back had been to get a small amount of cool air. "What you're saying sounds nice, but Professor Dumbledore—" Harry's head shot up as Cyrus Greengrass' voice went cold as he cut Harry off.

"Albus Dumbledore has no say in what you do outside the walls of his school, and his authority will be severely limited inside of them as well." Harry noticed that Cyrus Greengrass was an imposing man as the words left his mouth. The man was tall—and built strongly, with set shoulders and dark, hard blue eyes. "You will also never step foot into the house of your non-magical relatives. Lord Black has appointed you new non-magical guardians who will look out for your best interest."

Harry felt as if the air had been pulled from his lungs and all the blood in his body had settled into his ears. For the next few moments all he could hear was the hard thrum of his pulse pushing against his eardrums. Then all of a sudden he felt the bed dip slightly and Hermione's hand against his brow as she moved his fringe away from his eyes. That was the moment he realized he had started to cry; silent and still.

It took him a few moments before the weight of the situation he found himself in to hit him again as he began to furiously wipe at his eyes. When he looked up he saw that Cyrus Greengrass had turned his head to the side to allow Harry a moment to collect himself. Harry sniffled slightly and tried to gain control of his sinuses and watery eyes.

He sat for a second as Cyrus Greengrass looked to him again and then asked, "I don't have to go back there?" even to harry's own ears, his plea was feeble, "You're—you're sure?"

Harry felt Hermione shift closer to him as she pushed his forgotten lunch down towards the end of the bed. Her arm moved over his bare shoulders, and instead of his usual reaction; he found comfort in that small familiar gesture from her. He half-met Cyrus Greengrass' steel blue eyes and noticed the slight softening of the man's posture.

"Quite sure young man. I have it on good authority that you will never have to see them again, unless it is your prerogative." The man gave a slight smile as he continued. "As a child at least partially raised in the non-magical world you are required to have both magical and non-magical guardians. That you not return to your relatives was actually the requirement set forth by your new non-magical guardians—Ms. Granger's parents"

Harry fully met the man's eyes as he heard Hermione sharply inhale next to him. As he turned to look at her he could feel the tension fall slightly from her body next to his; and he caught sight of a watery, proud smile on her face.

"You don't have to go back Harry—you can stay with us—or Sirius—or anyone you want to—you don't have too—" was all Harry could understand as she quickly pulled him to her in a hug. The sheet that had been covering his chest fell as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He allowed himself another small moment of serenity as she slowly tightened her arms around his neck and swayed his body slightly. Then he heard a small hiss from behind him and he realized a large portion of his back had been angled towards the quietest member of the room's congregation.

Hermione must have either realized the same or simply felt the way he had jerked his body back to its position as she dropped her arms and met his eyes before looking to Daphne.

Harry could tell from the way the man's eyes moved between them, that Cyrus Greengrass had observed what had happened; at least in part. But he and Daphne thankfully did not say anything.

Harry thought quickly to find a way disperse the tension that had settled on the room.

"Sir—" Harry started.

"Cyrus—please." The man said with a soft grin.

"Cyrus—" Harry felt odd referring to an adult other than Sirius or Hagrid by their given name, "Why has Professor Dumbledore specifically been—" Harry attempted to try and find a proper word for the situation.

"Collared?" Daphne offered next to him.

"Daphne!" Hermione's voice was quiet, but harsh next to him.

"Actually, it is an apropos term for this conundrum." Cyrus said. "The answer seems to be complicated Harry." The man tilted his head slightly as his brow furrowed. "I do not know all of the details, and I'm not sure of your Godfather's reasoning—but I believe Albus Dumbledore has made quite a few mistakes when it comes to you—and that is all I can say on the matter." Cyrus righted his head and met Harry's eyes again. "I think it best you ask Lord Black when next you two meet."

Harry nodded as the man gave him a look of apology. Harry fiddled with the envelope Cyrus had handed him earlier. The wax seal had begun to peel off from where his thumbnail had scraped.

"What's this then?" Harry asked as he lifted the letter slightly.

"Your summons." Cyrus said succinctly.

"To what?" Harry asked as he arched his eyebrow.

"To the will reading of your parents—nearly thirteen years too late—but I'm sure the ministry will claim an oversight." Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. "It will be held as soon as you wish it to be."

Harry sat for a moment as he thought about what Cyrus had said. He wondered what more his parent's will reading would change.

"What will happen until then—until the start of term?" Hermione asked beside him.

"As our new charge and heir of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House you will be staying with us at our home Harry." Cyrus said as he met Harry's eyes and then looked to Hermione. "Your parents have already agreed to join us until then as well."

Harry could hear a slight release of breath come from Hermione. Something caught in Harry's mind though.

"You keep saying things about me being an heir and Lords and Houses—what does it really mean?" Harry asked as he looked between the other three.

"It means that you are the next in line to be the head of your family house Harry." Daphne said as she moved a chair next to the bed. She sat and faced him, "As the heir to a family such as yours it means —" Daphne paused and looked to her father for a moment and then to Hermione before she moved to meet his eyes again, "it means you will eventually be in charge of your families holdings, investments, whatever properties you may have, and any debts that your family may owe or be owed." Daphne smiled for a moment, "It also means that if anyone like Malfoy ever decides to get smart with you, you could remind him of your much—much higher station." The girl's, admittedly fetching smile, became a bit feral.

"Daphne —" Cyrus Greengrass' warning tone was enough to set the girl's smile to a contrite grin.

"It will mean a great deal of learning for you Harry." Daphne's eyes became serious as she looked passed him and towards where he knew Hermione was. In that moment Harry knew the girls were having another silent conversation, but he found himself uncomfortably lost momentarily in the warm, nearly violet hue of Daphne's iris. As she looked back to him, he snapped out of whatever trance he had found himself inside. "It will also mean your approach to situations will have to be more—delicate than you usually do things."

"These are subjects for another time perhaps?" Came a lightly accented voice from the doorway.

Harry saw a somewhat-tall, gorgeous blonde woman, whom he remembered slightly from his last moments of consciousness at the tournament. She had a small smile tugging at her lips. Next to her was the girl he had saved, she was shyly smiling at him with a blush on her face. Behind the two of them stood a tall man with dark salt and pepper hair, and a woman who bore an unnerving resemblance to Hermione. Both had surprised looks on their faces. After a few moments of looking through his memory, a picture of the couple sprung from his mind. He had met them momentarily in Diagon Alley two years earlier.

As Harry took in their appearances he felt a small draft come from the door, and he realized he was once again sitting with his chest bare to everyone in the room. As he tugged the blanket up again he felt Hermione spring from where she had previously been perched next to him.

"I believe you are right dear." Cyrus said as he opened his arm to admit his wife's form.

"Mum—Dad!" Hermione's pitched voice came out higher than normal.

"Darling." Hermione's mum's voice came out a bit sing-song and her expression turned into a smile not-unlike the other mother's in the room.

"Kitten." Hermione's father's voice held more of a questioning tone to it as he looked between her and Harry.

Harry next heard a poorly muffled snort next to him. When he looked to the source of the sound; he saw Daphne with her hand over her mouth and the tell-tale lines of a smile creeping out from behind her fingers. If Harry were honest with himself, he would most likely be doing the same if he were not so royally confused by the situation at hand.

As he quickly darted his eyes to all in the room he noticed that Astoria Greengrass stepped forward to him. As she neared his bed she gave a curtsey.

"Harry James Potter thank you for saving me." She gave him a shy smile before moving to stand next to her parents.

"Yes, Mr. Potter—Thank you for saving my youngest—and for befriending my oldest it seems." Mrs. Greengrass said as she gave a curtsey to Harry as well. "I trust my husband has explained our new relationship to you?" She asked smiling at Harry.

Harry nodded his head as he looked between the two older couples.

"Yes, ma'am. You are my new magical guardians and Mr. and Mrs. Granger are my new non-magical guardians." Harry said as he pulled the sheet a little higher towards his neck. After he observed both of the couples look to one another he continued. "Thank you, all of you, for doing that—I know you didn't have to—and that Sirius probably didn't give you much time to think about it—but—thank you."

"Please, I am Seraphia, and this is my husband Cyrus—you are under our care so no need for formalities." The woman's accent was well accompanied with her smile as she offered this to Harry.

"And I am Helen —" Hermione's mother offered, "and this is Richard—so none of that Mr. or Mrs. rubbish with us okay?" The woman gave her husband a quick look before she moved to take the seat on the opposite side of his bed next to Daphne. "I remember meeting you briefly two years ago—you've certainly shot up since then."

Harry felt himself blush slightly. He had heard many people talk like this to people his age. Always some family member or friend of a family commenting on someone 'growing so fast'. He had only ever been offered comments such as that from the Weasley's, but was always in part overshadowed by the herculean growth Ron seemed to have over the summer holidays.

"Not much—really." Harry mumbled out, "I haven't gotten that much bigger."

"Tosh—Kitten was a good five centimeters taller than you last time we saw you—now you've got that on her." Richard Granger's voice had lost its surprised-and-slightly-accusing tone and now held a warmer note to it as he moved over to Hermione and hugged his daughter. "That and it looks like your shoulders have broadened out, though to be honest I'm not a fan of the hair there Harry."

"Daddy!—Harry's hair is perfectly fine—don't start on your —" Hermione had gone from slightly red as she hugged her father to a deep crimson as she began to berate Richard.

"I was only joking Kitten —" Hermione blushed harder at the nickname being said again, "Harry, I was joking lad—no worries of me bringing clippers to your hair."

"Honestly Richard there is no need to frighten the boy, we've only just properly met him —" Harry couldn't help the small snort that escaped from him at this statement from Helen, and neither could Daphne apparently, "and what was that for you two?" Helen looked between him and Daphne.

Harry turned his head and looked to his new—friend. She wore a smirk that bordered on something he would call mischievous.

"Well, I assume that particular 'honestly' phrase was lovingly adopted by your daughter from a young age Mrs. Granger, because I became very familiar with it this past year—and I'm guessing Harry has been familiar with it for much longer." Daphne finished with her smirk being directed towards where Hermione had finally sat on the far end of Harry's bed.

"That I am—been hearing since the Express in first year." Harry sent his own smirk to the indignantly huffing Hermione.

"I'm sure it's just as endearing as when my wife does it." Richard Granger said as he stepped up to Hermione and put a hand on her shoulder.

Harry looked down to his hands and nodded his agreement to the statement; though he did not lift his head from slight embarrassment he did notice Daphne doing a similar action.

A small giggle drew everyone's eyes back to Astoria, who had situated herself between her parents.

"Well—I hate to ruin a fun moment—but we do need to discuss a few things while we have the time." Cyrus said as he conjured chairs for all those who were left standing. As Cyrus sat in his own chair and tucked his wand into his sleeve, Harry finally took notice that he had not seen his own wand since before the incidence.

"My wand!?" Harry had not meant for it to be as loud as it had come out—or to drop the sheet back down to his stomach, but he did. In his scramble to pull the sheet back up and looking about the room he nearly knocked his long forgotten lunch off the bed where it sat next to Hermione.

"Harry! Relax!—Patients aren't allowed to have their wands—you'll be given it back when you are discharged." Hermione had shifted slightly up the bed and stilled his arms from their frantic motions. "It's okay—Bill and Charlie found it next to where our tent was—its fine Harry."

Harry took a moment to calm himself as he met Hermione's eyes. After a long deep breath out he nodded to her slowly.

"A-hem" Came from Cyrus as he scooted his chair to the foot of Harry's bed. "Harry, we'll need to talk about the logistics of how things will work from now on."

Harry looked over to the man and his wife and then to his other new guardians. "What do you mean exactly?" Harry shifted slightly as he settled firmly against the back of the bed.

"First off —" Helen Granger began from his side, "you will finish your meal—you are still recuperating and your body need sustenance." She motioned for her daughter to put the tray of food back in front of Harry.

"Yes, I most assuredly agree Helen." Seraphia Greengrass sounded off from the foot of his bed.

Hermione followed her mother's unspoken directive and once the tray sat in front of Harry he was made to take bites from the food under Seraphia Greengrass and Helen Granger's watchful eye.

Cyrus Greengrass once again cleared his throat.

"Harry, you asked what this new order of things will change—the simple answer is everything you allow it too." Cyrus gave Harry a thoughtful look. "I will teach you the proper etiquette of a Lord of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House—you will be educated on the proper financial planning by your house's account manager at Gringotts—I will need to teach you how to interact with The People." Harry watched as Cyrus looked to his wife for a second and then the Grangers as they all shared a significant.

"Harry, may I assume what I have seen of your wardrobe is not a style statement?" Seraphia's asked next to her husband.

Harry quickly looked between all of the inhabitants of the room before he looked down at his spoon which was softly being buoyed between to potato lumps. They all had the same sympathetic look—Hermione and Daphne had looked contrite—Astoria looked curious—but the parents all had that questioning look, even though they had partial answers.

Harry took a breath and then whispered out, "They were second-hand—most were Dudley's old clothes."

"And your glasses?" Richard Granger's voice had a surprisingly soft lilt. "Are they your prescription?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "No—though they don't seem to be right now—I tried them on earlier and everything was blurry." He pushed what was left of his last sandwich wedge to the edge of his plate as he took one last bite of soup. "I'm full now." He pushed the tray down past where his knees sat on the bed.

In the small tense silence that followed Harry considered where this was exactly leading—he knew how they would handle him—coddle him—just like Madame Pomfrey had tried to do a few times before.

"Harry, the only reason I ask is that as a member of such high status—a certain level of appearance is expected—but that will be no problem." Harry kept his head angled down, but did look to Seraphia Greengrass as she said that. "I'm quite sure we can make use of Madame Malkin's when we go for Daphne's new set and —" the woman shifted and put and arm around Astoria, "and Astoria's first set of school robes." The little girl blushed as she smiled.

"And I will be taking Hermione to get a few new items before the school year starts —" Harry noticed a blush cover Hermione's face as her mother mentioned that, "so if you would like some non-magical clothing—we could make a day of it —" the woman looked to Seraphia and Cyrus, "Of course all of you are welcomed along—I'm sure the girls would love to see the size of some of our shopping establishments."

"Oh—I'm intimately familiar with some of the non-magical establishments—I have found myself lost a few times—wonderful moments." Seraphia Greengrass said with a sigh as Cyrus rolled his eyes next to her.

Harry felt a little of the tension fall from his shoulders as the attention had moved away from him.

"I don't have much money—I would need to stop in at Gringotts." Harry offered as he smiled to the older couples.

"Don't worry about the money Harry—we will happily take of those things —" Harry nearly was able to interject as Cyrus said this, but the man spoke a bit louder. "—but I suspect we won't be allowed to with Lord Black—I suspect you'll have a line of credit at every store in Diagon and if need be he'll be taking care of your purchases in the mundane establishments as well."

Harry would normally have fought against such things, but he figured it would be smarter to choose his battles carefully if Sirius was doing the offering. He made note that if nothing else he could take money from his vault and buy a few things for Hermione, Daphne, and Astoria as repayment for the families' generosity.

"Plus I would not worry over small monies—such as buying new things for the school year." Cyrus said with a queer smile. "I know you haven't been informed as to your family's history and holdings—but I believe the will reading will shed a large light on your financial situation."

A knock at the door drew everyone's attention as Hestia stepped inside and closed the door. It was at that moment that Harry noticed a slight pulse catch on the door knob as it shut.

"I'm sorry, but Harry needs his potions and a long rest now." The woman smiled as she moved to set the tray that had been floating beside her on the table. "I see you've eaten properly." She gave him a wide grin before she looked to both Hermione and Daphne, "Good job girls—looking after our young man."

Hermione looked down as another small blush appeared on her face and Harry noticed that Daphne's cheeks also took on a bit of color.

"Actually our mothers —" Hermione had started before Helen cut her off.

"Oh yes, they've been doing a marvelous job of keeping his attention in the right places." Harry felt his own cheeks burn a bit as the adults of the room chuckled.

"I'm sure—well then—Harry I believe you are familiar with this course of action." Hestia said as she pulled the stopper of the first vial.

Harry nodded his head as he took a whiff of the bright blue potion—it smelled acidic and slightly like a damp cave. As he tilted the vial back he realized it tasted much worse.

"Ack!" He coughed out as he handed the vial back. Astoria Greengrass' expression showed her opinion of taking potions, if the way her nose was scrunched up was any indication.

"Yes—yes nasty I know, that one was for you core—though it was more of a formality as yours is nearly right it seems." Hestia said with a wry grin. "Now, you definitely need to say your good-byes as this is a very strong dreamless-sleep draught." She wiggled the vial a little.

"Alright —" Harry nodded to her as the others all moved from their seats except for Hermione. "Thank you again—for doing all of that—and —" As Harry began to thank them even more Richard Granger spoke up.

"No need for that." Harry noticed the man smile wide. "We all did it because you are already important to both of our families—I know all about you saving my Kitten during your first year—and about a few of the other things you've done. So we were all happy to do this."

Harry dipped his head slightly, but as he did he felt fingers gently catch his chin.

"Yes, thank you for being a friend to our daughter—we're happy you two have been so close." Helen Granger had forced Harry to meet her eyes. They were a different shade of brown from her daughters—lighter, but still held that deep, open quality of Hermione's to them. Helen released his chin and leaned upwards as she placed a small kiss to the crown of his head.

Harry felt his breath catch—no one had ever done that before—and any other time he may have locked up, but at that moment he simply met the warm smile of Helen Granger with one of his own. Admittedly he may have imagined—just for a moment—that she had been his own mother—but the moment passed as Richard took her hand and pulled her back to allow Astoria Greengrass to occupy the space.

"Thank you again—Harry." the girl smiled shyly again as she quickly retreated to the area next to the door.

"We will be here until you are declared fit enough to be discharged." Cyrus said as he moved to the door with Seraphia following next to him.

"Hermione and I will be here—Hestia already allowed us to stay in here during visiting hours." Daphne said with a grin as she leaned over and softly laid a hand over Harry's. It was an odd moment for her, Harry could tell, but she seemed resolute in the small action as it ended and she moved around the bed to her parents.

"We'll be here when you wake up—and I'll make sure there's something to occupy our time—I have a few books—but maybe I should —" Hermione started to ramble.

"Hermione —" Harry felt the need to stop her before it got out of hand, "just be here and I'll be okay with that." He felt that he may have said something wrong as Hermione's eyes widened, but then she smiled and squeezed his hand as she stood up and nodded her head.

As everyone stepped out of the room and the door closed he noticed the flare around the door knob again.

"Quite the charmer you are there Harry." Hestia said as she handed him the other vial.

Harry felt his eye quirk at her statement, but he shook his head as he sniffed the vial—sour socks and onions this time. Harry tilted his head to the door.

"What charm is on the door?" he asked as he tilted the vial back and gulped down the potion as fast as possible. He quickly grabbed the water glass Hestia had ready and sipped as fast as he could.

"Noticed that did you?—It's a privacy charm—a strong one. No one can come in this room without my expressed permission and it's the same one that let me know you were awake earlier." Hestia turned towards him as she called for Clemmy to remove the mostly empty tray of food. "Harry, you saw an indication of the charm?" He nodded to her, "Interesting—most people do not begin to notice trace elements of charms until they're a year or so older than you—at least most men don't —" Harry saw her wry grin as she continued, "us witches mature a bit faster though—Daphne and Hermione more than likely noticed it, though they didn't ask about it." She shrugged, "You're probably just a bit ahead of your 'contemporaries' as they say."

Harry tried to nod, but he had begun to feel the potion half-way through her explanation. As he let his head rest on the pillow he heard a whispered 'goodnight' from the Healer and the door being closed. Then there was nothing but sweet dreamless sleep.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**Part Two: A Red-headed Parade **

**August 15, 1994, Late Morning St. Mungo's Hospital**

As his eyes began to open on their own accord Harry heard a muffled conversation off to his left. When he tilted his head he observed a tall man leaning over a piece of parchment spread out along a table between Hermione and Daphne. For a moment Harry was confused, but the sight of long red hair tied in a ponytail and a dangling dragon fang earring tipped as to who the man was.

"Ah—so you've decided to grace us with your presence then have you?" Hestia's voice said from his other side.

As he turned and looked at the woman he saw that she was performing the same action as she had yesterday with the slow angling of her wand over his body. And he noticed that once again he was no longer covered from his waist up.

"No—you girls keep your eyes over there!" Hestia said without moving her eyes from her parchment.

Harry turned to look back to the table and noticed that Daphne and Hermione both had their heads turned away, but also looked to be smiling from the angle he could see. He felt his face heat slightly.

"Feeling right then Harry?" Bill Weasley stood near Harry's bed, and to if her were being honest Harry did feel a slight bit intimidated by the man. He was tall, obviously good looking, had a dangerous career, and seemed to even pour coolness out when he stood.

"Ye-yeah, ship-shape." Harry said as he felt a little emasculated with his much smaller frame compared to the man talking to him.

"Considering the state you were in when we portkeyed in here and the fact you're even alive—I'd say 'ship-shape' is an understatement." Bill deadpanned as he pulled a chair to himself and sat backwards in it, resting his arms along its back. Bill motioned to the curved slightly less-harsh red-line on Harry's side, "I'll give you this one though—that scar is going to drive all the girls crazy at Hogwarts —" the older man said as he waggled his eyebrows, "I'd be willing to bet you'll start getting invited to a few broom closet liaisons this year." Bill chuckled as Hestia grinned and Harry heard both Hermione and Daphne sniff quietly at the comment.

"Well that topic aside—" Hestia started as she winked at Harry, "I think you will more than be ready to leave tomorrow Harry, though I will be giving you a strict schedule for potions and bandage changing—" Harry watched as the woman set her parchment down and smiled at him before continuing, "care to get up and about for a bit?"

Harry felt his head nod on its own accord. "Yes, please."

Hestia nodded and chuckled at him. "I figured—well would you prefer robes or pants and a shirt—I would suggest robes, but I have the feeling you will say—"

"Pants and a shirt please." Harry finished for her as he smiled.

Hestia shook her head as she rolled her eyes, "Clemmy!"

The elf popped in and stood with a large blush over her greyish skin.

"What clothing is Mr. Harry Potter be choosing?" Clemmy squeaked out.

"Pants and the shirt please Clemmy." Hestia said as she held her hand out.

"Yes, Healer Jonesy, Clemmy is prouder of those!" The elf said as she snapped her fingers and disappeared as a small pile of clothes landed onto Hestia's outstretched hand.

"Alright—" Hestia turned to Hermione and Daphne, "Ladies some privacy for the patient—" Hestia turned to Harry, "Harry, I hope you don't mind, but as I am testing your range of motion it would help to have someone to catch you if you need help—so Mr. Weasley will be staying if that is okay?" As Hestia finished her question Hermione and Daphne stepped out of the room.

"Okay—um—can I get dressed first?" Harry asked.

Both Bill and Hestia laughed.

"Of course Harry—I'll be in the restroom until you're dressed and Bill will be right there if you need help." Hestia smiled and made her way to the only other door in the room.

"I'll be turned around mate, but let me know if you need help." Bill gave Harry a grin as he turned his chair.

Harry gave a quick 'yeah' as he slipped the pair of boxers on and then moved to sit fully on the bed. He did feel a small head rush as he made himself vertical for the first time in days, but the feeling went away as he adjusted the pants. Putting on the shirt was the first time he felt actual pain as he let out a small cry when his right arm reached high as he slid on the shirt. In an instant Bill was in front of him.

"What's the matter Harry?" Bill asked as Harry took a deep breath.

"Everything okay out here?" Hestia's voice came from behind Harry.

"Ye—ah," Harry breathed out as the sharpness dulled in his side. "Moved my arm a bit too much I think—it'll be okay." Harry righted himself as he sat on the bed.

"Yes, I'm sure—" Harry could hear the very distinct sarcasm in Hestia's voice, "still I'm going to run you through a few quick charms." Her wand was already out and hovering next to his new scar. "Hmm—everything is okay, but I expect you to take things slow—go ahead and stand for me."

Harry spent the next twenty minutes moving slowly about the room with Bill hovering slightly behind him and Hestia walking backwards in front of him as she made notes on a piece of parchment.

"Alright, I'll expect you to take it slow and not stay out longer than two hours—I'll know if you do—but take a small walk up to the waiting rooms." Hestia smiled. "It'll give you a good workout and a nice surprise for the people up there." The young Healer stepped out the door and gave a nod to both Harry and Bill.

"Well, let's get to it then Harry." Bill said as he stepped up next to Harry.

"Right—" Harry said as they stepped out the door and nearly ran into Hermione and Daphne, "Oh—I figured you two would've made your way to your parents." Harry said to them.

"Oh—well, mum and dad had to stop by their surgery to put their patients in order for the next couple of weeks—and they needed to check on Crookshanks and Hedwig." Hermione said in a rush as she moved to stand next to him.

"Hedwig's at your home?" Harry asked, "I thought she was at the Burrow—"

"Should've seen mum when she couldn't find her mate—" Bill started as he chuckled, "She thought your owl had run off on you—then Hermione's mum came into our waiting room and said that your owl was taking kip on one of their kitchen chairs." Harry noticed the clarification of different waiting rooms.

"How small are the waiting rooms here?" Harry asked, and instantly began to worry as all of their faces turned a bit serious. "What's happened?"

"What's happened is Hermione had words with the most prestigious member of our society and did a brilliant job of it—some of my family were a bit sour afterwards—but it seems those parties have re-defined their beliefs when it comes to that individual." Bill gave a smile to Hermione and then looked back to Harry, "Listen Harry—if you'd rather not stop in to see my family—they'd understand."

Harry looked to Hermione, but saw that she had turned her head to avoid his eyes. In response he reached down and slipped his hand in hers and gave hers a quick squeeze. His reward was to see her look forward with her head still tilted and a smile grace her lips. Before he looked back to Bill he noticed Daphne giving him a smug smile, and before he knew what he was doing he sent one right back to the girl. If he would have kept his gaze on her for a moment longer he might have seen her raise a surprised eyebrow at his cheek.

"Why wouldn't I want to see your family?" Harry asked and noticed the surprised look from Bill.

"So—you're not mad at us—for what Dumbledore's supposedly been doing?" Bill asked in what Harry took to be an honestly confused voice.

"What has Dumbledore done exactly—no one has told me—and I know your family Bill—I don't care what has been happening—but all I know about your family is that they have taken me in—and your parents have always treated me like family." Harry figured he may have gotten a little too worked up as his breathing became a bit labored. "Of course I want to see all of them—even the Twins—though if they try anything—I'll let Hermione at them." Harry got the chuckles he had hoped for as he finished.

"Oh—I wouldn't worry about that mate—I suspect my GinBug has them cowed properly." Bill said with a laugh as he slung an arm gently around Harry's shoulder. "You know my only sister has a horrible fancy for right?"

"Bill!" Hermione chastised, "I'm guessing Ginny won't have a problem cursing you for that."

Harry had simply felt his jaw open at Bill's statement and his face burn slightly.

"Oh, Young Hermione, I know, I know—but it is my responsibility to make sure GinBug does not have her feelings hurt too bad—and I already know that a little heartbreak is unavoidable—" Bill leaned down to Harry, and Harry felt the obligation to meet the other man's eyes. "Try to make it easy on her—you've always been her first crush."

Harry nodded quickly as Bill smiled.

"Thanks mate." Bill whispered to him as they stepped into a large room where the entire family was chatting. In all honesty Harry had not expected to see the entire family there—perhaps just the Twins, Ginny, their mum, and Ron.

"Harry!" The Twins shouted in tandem.

In a flash Molly Weasley was in front of him and preparing what looked to be the hardest hug he could have ever experienced until Hermione stepped between him and the Weasley matriarch.

"Mrs. Weasley—trust when I say I understand the impulse—but Harry has to take it easy—so not so—" Hermione's voice petered out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry.

"Not so enthusiastic mum—" Bill Weasley chuckled.

"Oh—of course dears—" Mrs. Weasley side-stepped Hermione and gave a small hug to Harry as she whispered, "I'm so happy you came to see us—so happy."

Harry moved himself back from the woman and gave Mr. Weasley a handshake as the man made it over to them.

"I don't know what is happening—everyone is saying things about Professor Dumbledore, but Daphne's father said that I should speak to Sirius about it—but whatever it is—I'm sure it won't change my opinion of you—all of you." Harry was earnest as he spoke and he noticed a quick change in Mr. Weasley's demeanor as the man's face relaxed into a smile.

"I'm glad to hear that Harry—all we ever wanted was to open our home to our son's friends." Mr. Weasley said as Ginny stepped next to him.

"It's good to see you Harry—" Ginny smiled shyly at him and had a flaming blush on her face. Harry's mind automatically replayed every moment he remembered the girl acting in a similar way and realized how true Bill's statement about her crush was. "I hope you're okay."

"Hey Ginny, I'm much better than I was two days ago." Harry hoped his smile did not come out as too awkward.

"That's good—" Ginny said as she stepped closer to him. Harry noticed the younger girl's eyes shoot over to where Hermione and Daphne were standing for a moment before she stepped fully up to him and gave him a soft hug.

Harry looked over to Bill as the girl moved over to the couch and sent a glare to the Twins. Bill gave him a look that Harry took to mean 'I told you so'.

"Oh Fabled Hero!" One of the Twins (Harry thought it was George)

"Mighty Savior of Damsels in Distress!" The other continued.

"We are so pleased—"

"that you have once again—"

"risen from the ashes of near death—"

"to stand tall above us mere—"

"mortals." The two finished together in a flamboyant motion of arms.

"Really though—we're happy you're okay mate." The Twin he figured to be Fred said.

"Very happy Harry—very happy." George said as they both put a hand on his shoulder before moving over to Ginny.

"Nice to know the stories are true then." Came a surprisingly soft-spoken voice from the hulking form of Charlie Wealsey. "We'll have to keep an eye on you—you'd do good on the preserve I think Harry." The man said as he threw a smile to Harry from his spot at the table.

"Not likely—Director's already put a pin in his records—Hermione's too." Bill said from next to him, and Harry's head felt like it might spin a little.

"He's a lucky one then." Said Percy Weasley as he stood next to Bill. "Harry, I'm pleased to see you up and about so soon—it's a testament to your resolve."

Harry felt a bit odd being praised by Percy, "Thanks Percy—" Harry thought for a proper topic to ask the uptight member of the family, "I figured you would be at the ministry around this time—you said you were working long hours the other night?"

The older man looked down as he gave a surprisingly wry grin, "I've decided to pursue other career options." Harry felt his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "I've found certain departments at the ministry to not be up to the caliber I believed them to be—and that saying things such as that do not go over so well with those that work in them."

"Yeah! Can you believe Harry?" came from one of the Twins.

"Percy told them to sod off!" the other continued.

"Well not in those words—"

"Still, we're very impressed with him—proud of 'im for the first time even!"

"Quiet you two." Mr. Weasley said as he patted Percy on the shoulder. "Percy has already received a few offers from some private estates in need of a bookkeeper—Flourish and Blotts has even asked for his help." The pride was evident to Harry as Mr. Weasley smiled at his most recently graduated son.

"Really—Flourish and Blotts?" Hermione's voice had a floaty-sort of quality that made Harry smile.

"Down Hermione—down." Daphne joked as she put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Harry could not help the chuckle that rose from him as Hermione gave one of her eye-rolls which meant internally she was saying 'honestly'. But then Harry caught sight of Ron sitting at the table next to the only window in the room, and the look of disdain that his best mate wore.

"Hey Ron—" Harry offered to his friend.

Ron just nodded at him in return before jutting his head to Daphne, "She pull you in as well?"

Harry turned his head and caught Daphne's mask slide into place and Hermione's expression contort into a scowl.

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley's screech banged off the walls of the room.

Ron did not react to the reprimand as he just kept staring at Daphne with a sneer.

Harry felt an odd feeling wash over him as he looked at his friend. "May I have a moment to talk to Ron."

"Harry—" Hermione touched his arm, but Harry turned his head and smiled at his other best friend to let her know it was okay.

"Just a moment." Harry said in a voice he did not fully recognize as his own.

"Of course—come on everyone let us give these two a few—and Ms. Greengrass we will apologize for our youngest son's abhorrent behavior while we wait." Mr. Weasley said as he shuffled everyone out the door.

As soon as the latch caught Ron was up and in front of Harry, "So—what is it—Slytherin in the room and you don't care—bloody hell Harry you know—"

That was as far as Harry allowed Ron to get as he suddenly found his hand fisted in the other boy's shirt. Ron stopped dead in his tracks and looked more than a bit bewildered.

"Who do you think looked after Hermione last year?" Harry made sure he had Ron's eyes as he calmly asked his question. "Hmm? Who do you think made sure she didn't burn herself out while we carried on not noticing what she was doing?" Harry released Ron and watched as the taller boy fell onto the couch behind him. "Who do you think swore an oath that apparently would have taken her magic in order to keep Hermione's secrets—my secrets—Sirius' secrets?" Harry noticed that Ron's eyes widened for a moment. "Whose parents do you think Sirius entrusted me too?—Hermione's and Daphne's"

"What is all this rubbish?" Ron exploded as he jumped back up from his seat. "First Greengrass' father takes Hermione's parents into another room, then he is saying you have a special healer—and then Remus is telling us that you won't be coming back to the Burrow—what the bloody hell is going on?!" Ron shouted.

"I don't know!" Harry gasped out as his pulse rushed into his head, "I don't know! Sirius is in Gringotts under their care—He's apparently getting a trial—I don't have to go to the Dursley ever again—and apparently Dumbledore has been doing things—I don't know what, but it was enough for Sirius to pull this stunt—gahh!" Harry felt a small flare of pain in his side and as he stumbled Ron caught him. "Ron—I don't know—I'll see Sirius soon, and hopefully he'll tell me what is really happening." Harry stood and stepped back from Ron.

His best mate stood there with an apprehensive look to his face.

"Ron—I'll tell you what I do know—it was Daphne who was in the room when I woke up, and she was honestly there for Hermione—that is enough for me to be her friend—and it should be enough for you to at least be—cordial." Harry said as he stepped towards the door. "If she wants—Daphne will be in our compartment on the Express—there will be a seat for you as well." Harry moved to open the door.

"Harry—" Harry turned to Ron's voice, "I'm—I'm happy you're okay mate."

Harry nodded and gave him a smile, "I know mate."

As he stepped out into the hallway Harry was greeted with the sight of everyone patiently staring at him.

"What?" He asked

"Did you leave anything for us to thrash?" Came from the Twin Harry decided was George.

"Fred of course he did—" The other twin said, "You know Harry—"

Harry's head had started to thrum hard as he looked at the group.

"He's fine, but I think I may have gotten too worked up." Harry swayed a bit and he felt two pairs of arms on him in an instant. As he looked to each side he saw Hermione and Daphne both looking at him with concerned looks.

"Oh—no wonder he doesn't have much of a temper—a lovely on each arm." Charlie Weasley's voice was not-so-soft-spoken that time. "But it does look like the lad could use a rest. Why don't you get him back to his room."

"Yeah—" Harry said as he regained his balance. "Thanks—but I still want to go see each of your parents—" Harry nodded to Hermione and Daphne.

"Why don't you get back to the room Harry—I'll run and fetch them." Bill offered as he had already begun to make his way down the opposite end of the hall.

"Yes, that sound better." Hermione said as she and Daphne began to walk him down the hall.

Harry looked between the two of them and felt himself fall in line with their steps. He remembered when he had first seen them earlier that morning.

"Hey, what were you two working on this morning when woke up?" He asked them.

Daphne let out a snort as her mask fell completely from her face. "Well Hermione here begged Professor Babbling for an extra assignment for extra marks for this year—and she gave us a—admittedly hard one." Daphne leaned in front of him to give Hermione a look.

"Yes, it is a particularly troubling problem, but that was why Bill was assisting us." Hermione said doing the same to Daphne. "And we're nearly finished anyways—she said she didn't expect us to get past the first cluster—but we've finished five out of seven and we're nearly finished with the sixth."

Harry looked between the two and shook his head. "I don't understand anything you two are talking about."

"Well if you had taken Ancient Runes last year—you would." Hermione's voice had taken on the lecturing tone Harry was so familiar with.

"Why didn't you?—I know Hermione said you wanted to take Divinations, but I figured you may have taken an interest in the class." Daphne asked next to him with genuine interest in her voice.

"Why would I have an interest?" He asked her

"Well, I know you don't know much about your family, but even beyond the Potters, your mum was well known to be a prodigy in the subject." Daphne offered with clear look of surprise at his ignorance.

"To be fair, Lily Potter was a prodigy in most every subject she took." Hermione said next to him and Harry looked to her, "It's true though, your mum was brilliant according to Professor Babblings and Vector. But even still Harry you knew from McGonagall how studious she was."

Harry nodded at Hermione's statement, but at the same time he wondered about his heritage.

"Do you two mind going over the project with me?" He asked and knew without looking the surprised look Hermione had on her face.

"I wouldn't mind one bit Harry, but it will make your head spin." Daphne said with a cheeky grin on her face as they made their way down the hall.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**Part Three: My Brother's Keeper**

**August 16, 1994, Late Morning/Nearly Noon St. Mungo's Hospital**

Harry had just finished being given his final check-over from Hestia.

"Well you have recovered enough for me to feel safe with releasing you into Lord Greengrass' care." Hestia said as she tucked her parchment into a small pile on the edge of the table next to his bed. Harry watched as the woman looked over to where Cyrus Greengrass sat and said, "I've already given your potions schedule to Lady Greengrass and I believe all of your guardians already know what to do if you start to feel any pain." The woman smiled as she reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out Harry's wand. "Considering your paperwork has already been signed by your guardians I figured you could have this now."

As Harry took the wand from Hestia's outstretched hand he expected to feel the usual sensation he had when touching it after an absence. But instead he felt nothing. Harry tilted his wrist to both sides to inspect the wand, but he found nothing out of place. The wand looked as it always had, but as he gave a tiny flick and attempted a _Lumos _only the barest of light filtered through the wand.

Harry knew the two in his audience were watching him intently, he could feel the looks they were aiming his way.

"Something's wrong. I don't feel anything." He said after his third attempt. "Something's wrong." He shook his head.

"Nothing is wrong Harry." Cyrus' voice was gentle and Harry felt a bit of a indignation rise in himself as he felt like he was about to be coddled.

"Nothing's wrong? I can't use my wand—" Harry ground out before he looked to Hestia, "Are you sure I'm okay? You said something about my core the other day—maybe it's not healed—or maybe—"

"You are fine Harry—your core is very strong—and very complex for someone your age—I would say it's more in line with a person someone near my age group almost." Hestia smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder, but Harry still felt as if he were being treated like a child.

As he looked back down to his wand he heard Cyrus cross the room to him.

"Harry, I believe I know what has happened—and trust me when I say nothing is wrong with you—or that wand—" Harry looked up the man as he finished speaking and Harry did feel that the man was being sincere.

"Then what is wrong?" Harry asked in what he would admit was a bit of a pathetic voice. He watched as Cyrus shared a look with Hestia.

"I believe you and I should have a talk when we reach my home—A bit of setting and privacy will suit this conversation." Cyrus said with a smile as he took Harry's elbow and helped him stand. "For now—let us head to the portkey point—the others are waiting."

Harry took a long look at his wand before he nodded to Cyrus and placed his wand in his pocket. As they stepped from the room Hestia put a hand to his shoulder and gave a small rub, he noticed she smiled immediately afterwards.

"Where is it your family lives sir?" Harry asked the older man.

"Along the eastern coast—as to where specifically—you'll have to wait to learn." The man said as he grinned.

As he followed Cyrus, Harry took a few moments to look down each of the expansive hallways along the main thoroughfare they seemed to be walking. Just as they made their way towards the stairwell Harry saw a familiar face, "Neville?!" He called, and in response he was rewarded with a wide-eyed Neville Longbottom spinning so rapidly he nearly fell over himself and the tall, elderly woman next to him.

"Harry?" Neville asked back to him.

"Yeah—" Harry asked as he looked to his friend, "What are you doing here, Neville—you're not sick are you?"

"Me—no Harry—perfectly fine—" Neville seemed to pause and give Harry a timid once over, "I thought you were nearly—you know—" Neville arms moved futilely in trying to express what his sentiment was—but Harry was able to pick up the gist of what the other boy had meant.

Harry gave a little chuckle before he looked back to Neville, and the elderly woman that he now recognized as Neville's Grandmother—well the stuffed vulture on her hat gave him an idea it was her at least. "I nearly was for a moment—but as you can see I'm much better mate." Harry looked over to the woman, "Harry Potter, ma'am." Harry bowed his head slightly to the lady.

"Lady Augusta Longbottom—I am familiar with who you are Mr. Potter—You were my daughter-in-law's godson—just as Neville was your mother's." The woman said with a tight voice. "I believe you and my grandson are friends are you not?"

"Gran—" Neville started to say, though the other boy did have a surprised look on his face as he looked towards Harry. Harry, similarly felt surprise at the information the woman had mentioned. He had no idea he had a godmother—let alone that it was Neville's mother.

"Quiet Neville—I have asked your friend a question—" The tall woman looked sharply back to Harry, "well Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded his head slowly as he looked between the two, "Yes, ma'am—Neville and I are mates—we live same room for ten months of the year—if we weren't mates we'd probably kill each other."

The woman nodded, "An astute observation Mr. Potter." The woman turned to Cyrus, "It is a pleasure to see you outside of the Wizengamot Lord Greengrass—though I wish it were not in such a place."

"Likewise, Lady Longbottom." Cyrus bowed to Neville's Grandmother as he said this.

"May I ask why Mr. Potter is in your company instead of those he is usually said to be with?" The woman's voice had sharpened even to Harry's ears as she looked harder at the man.

"I'm afraid that is something that can only be discussed with Harry's godfather—" Harry noticed the way Cyrus looked pointedly at the woman as he said that.

"Oh—Yes—I received word from a friend that the DMLE and the Minister have been in a tissy over some discrepancies with an old and widely publicized imprisonment." The woman quickly looked back to Neville and then to Harry, "Thank you for confirming information Lord Greengrass—Neville let us go and see your parents." The woman quickly nodded her head to both Harry and then Cyrus.

Neville was quick on the woman's heels with only a 'bye Harry', but Harry wondered about Neville's parents'—one of whom was apparently his godmother. As he made to follow the two he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him. When he looked back he saw a grim smile on Cyrus Greengrass' face.

"It's best you allow them some private time with his parents." Cyrus said.

Harry made to question, but Cyrus lifted his hand.

"It is the young Longbottom's story to tell if he wished it, but do your friend a favor and don't push the subject Harry—it looks like it may be a hard one for him." Harry took in the look on Cyrus' face and figured the man was right. As much as Harry's instincts were telling him to ask more—he would not have wanted to hurt Neville.

"Okay." Harry said as they turned to the stairs and began the long walk down.

As soon as they had reached the rooms behind the admittance area where portkey's came and went Harry noticed Hermione and her parents there as well.

"I didn't know you were coming with us." Harry said unable to stop the smile that fought its way onto his face.

"Yes, Tamlin and Clippy have already gone to our home and picked up our things for a few days—Crookshanks and Hedwig are already there-and—" Hermione said very quickly as she moved over to Harry's side. "according to Tamlin—Crookshanks has the perfect place in the Greengrass' personal library—" Hermione's smile was more than a bit manic and Harry had to gulp at the hungry look in her eyes.

"Hermione—" Daphne said from Harry's other side, "we'll have two weeks for you to peruse our library—let's get home and relax first." The taller girl did seem to have a bit more of a glow about her as she said the word 'home'.

Harry smiled as he saw her grin widen as Hermione huffed slightly next to him.

"Yes—yes, let us go home." Seraphia breathed out as she hugged her youngest daughter and pulled a hairpin from her pocket. "Richard, Helen—If you will take hold of my wrist and hold on."

Harry watched as the Grangers did as they were asked.

With a quick statement of "Home of the Sea" from Seraphia, Harry watched as they vanished in a bright, spinning motion.

"Now onto us." Cyrus said. "I understand you had a not so fun introduction to these Harry—" Harry nodded at Cyrus' statement, "this one will be much softer I promise—one of the perks of being a Head of House." Cyrus smiled as he pulled a pocket watch from behind his cloak. "Grab ahold."

As Harry took hold of the older man's wrist and heard him utter the same word's his wife had just moments before; he felt the floor spin beneath him and the room fall from existence as a mist of sea air hit his face.

**_Of Death & Fate _**

**A/N: Harry-Centric chapter I know, but hopefully I built what I meant to. **

**Next Chapter: An explanation from Cyrus, The Greengrass' home and lands, and Harry spends time with both his new magical and non-magical guardians.**


End file.
